


Bonded: Mature Chapters

by Chridder



Series: Bonded [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Reylo - Freeform, Sex In A Cave, Sex on the Falcon, twice, wink wink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2019-11-18 15:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chridder/pseuds/Chridder
Summary: Just a place to upload sexy versions of chapters in my fanfiction, Bonded.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning... Intimate scenes are not my forte. I plan on trying to find a seasoned author to help me do revisions on these parts of the story when I'm done. For now, I hope you enjoy the work in progress!

Rey sits cross-legged in the center of the cavern, dry, cracked earth stretching out on all sides, the ceiling looming high above.

Her eyes are closed; her back is straight. She’s on a mat she took from the training room, large and square-shaped, thick enough to cushion a hard fall.

The kyber crystals are bright tonight, brighter than usual. Some are in motion, their surfaces changing as they reorganize internally, creating a soft flicker in their glow.

Rey takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with oxygen.

But she doesn’t feel it. Not the air in her lungs, not the mat below, not her hands resting lightly in her lap.

It’s like she doesn’t have a body. In fact…

It’s like she’s not Rey at all.

She is and she isn’t.

Part of her is aware of herself— the memories, the feelings, the experiences that make her who she is.

But part of her has ascended, rising above the smallness of an individual mind.

Because right now, she’s communing with the crystals. They’ve taken her into the collective, allowed her to perceive things as they do.

And it’s… beyond what words can describe.

The closest she can get is remembering the first time she went into an ocean, walking further and further, the waves lapping against her stomach, then her chest, then her neck. She closed her eyes and dipped down, submerging herself in the warm, salty liquid. She wanted to open her eyes _so badly_ , but remembered Finn’s warning, all the stinging and burning.

That’s when the thought struck her. She couldn’t help but wonder…

What’s it like to be the water? Just _be it_?

To be everywhere all at once, every cranny, every crevice, every depth, every shallow, to see all the ocean’s wonders all the time?

Well… Now she knows.

She knows what it’s like to be the water. And the air. And the earth. And the blackness of space, so vast and vibrant.

She knows because the crystals know. When she communes with them, she sees like they do, and they see _everything_.

When she first started making out their words, she was confused. They’d argue about the strangest things, things they had no way of knowing.

Like the quality of saltwater on Cantonica. Or the shrinking numbers of Kindalo on Aleen.

How could they know such things, buried deep in this wasteland of a planet?

But when they invited her into the collective, she finally understood.

They’re connected to the Force, bound to it as part of their very being.

And the Force is everywhere. So, they are too.

 _Nothing_ escapes their view, not the darkest depths, not the remotest planets, not the emptiest regions of space. The entire _universe_ is open to them, all the time.

And when she’s part of the collective, it’s open to her too.

Sort of.

She can’t fully experience the omniscience, not without going mad. The crystals protect her mind, limiting her access to their sight.

But she sees enough to understand them now, understand how they can bicker so furiously with each other yet still feel connected as a single being.

It’s not just that they see everything as one.

It’s that they know ultimately the _entire universe_ is one, a massive engine where every single part, from the very large to the very small, comes together to form a whole. It’s all interdependent, even the things that seem opposed— life and death, predator and prey, current and countercurrent. Even as these forces struggle against each other, one can’t exist without the other.

She tries to remember this whenever she gets frustrated, consumed by some obstacle in her path or a situation that didn’t turn out how she expected.

She thinks about the crystals, what it’s like to see as they do.

And she reminds herself that whatever she’s struggling with is _necessary_ , part of a larger whole, even if she can’t see how. 

Suddenly, Rey jerks back, snapping abruptly from the collective.

She blinks a few times, disoriented. For a minute, she’s confused, struggling to remember who she is, where she is…

It comes back slowly, her mind, her body, her surroundings.

She squints, bleary-eyed, like she just woke from a deep sleep.  

She takes a breath, concentrating on the feeling. She rolls her shoulders a couple times, checking in with her body, the stiffness of her muscles.

She looks up at the crystals.

Why did they kick her out? Did she offend them somehow?

Before she can consider the question, she feels the answer, a warmth welling in her core.

She gasps, straightening.  

The next instant, she throws the blanket off her lap and crawls to the edge of the mat, reaching for her boots. She digs her socks out of one of them, then starts pulling them on, moving quickly.

He’s close. _Very_ close.

Strange…

She should have felt it when he arrived on the planet.

Maybe being in the collective interfered with her Force senses?

It wouldn’t surprise her. This is only her third time doing it, and the experience _so overwhelming_ , seeing so much at once. It probably dulls her awareness of her physical surroundings, where she actuall _y_ is.

Good thing the crystals ejected her just in time.

They’re chattering excitedly now, as eager for him to get here as she is. They know why she’s asked him to come, and they’re _dying_ for him to see what they’ve shown her.  

She finishes tying her boots, then rises, brushing off her pants. She turns to the opening across the cavern and starts making her way towards it, her heart quickening at the sound of footsteps outside.

Ben emerges before she gets there, covered in a thin layer of dust, eyes alert, searching.

He halts when he catches sight of Rey.

“Well, fancy seeing you here!” She jogs up to him, grinning.

A smile twinges his lips.

He doesn’t say a word, just leans in, curling a hand behind her neck as he descends.

He greets her with a kiss, soft and warm, his thumb at her cheek.

“Sorry for the wait,” he murmurs. “My meetings took longer than expected.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” Her lips graze his.

He slips a hand behind her waist, both of them smiling as they connect again and again, small, playful kisses, like they’re sharing secrets. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers.

“That makes two of us.” He draws her closer.

She wraps her arms around his neck, everything falling away as they lose themselves in soft skin and warm bodies, an easy, natural closeness.

The crystals shimmer all around them. They start to grow brighter, seeming to pulse, a heartbeat of glowing energy.

Suddenly, Ben pulls back, straightening to look around.

“Something’s… different.” His hands slide to her hips. “The kyber, the Force energy…” He examines the cave. “I’ve never felt it this strong before.”

“The crystals are excited.” Rey smiles. “They’ve been waiting for you.”

“For me?” He looks back. “They know me?”

“ _Oh yes_.”

“But I’ve only been here once.” He knits his eyebrows.

Rey tsks, pushing gently against his chest.

“We have a lot to talk about.” She steps back, his hands falling from her waist. “But first…” She looks him over, noticing his black clothes look almost gray. “Maybe you should clean off a bit.”

He glances down at himself, then raises his eyebrows.

“You’re the one who invited me to a _cave_.” He looks up teasingly.

“Yes, well…” She brushes a layer of dust off his arm. “I’m just trying to add some variety to your life, get you off the dreadnaught.”

He grunts.

“Come on.” She takes his hand, inspecting the grime. “I’ve got some supplies. Nothing fancy, but it’ll do.” She turns, walking to the center of the cavern.

He follows behind, lagging, brushing himself off as he goes.   

Once she reaches the training mat, she crouches next to it, sorting through a miscellaneous pile— some portions, water, scraps of cloth.   

“Do you _sleep_ here?” He fumbles with something behind her.

“I usually stay the night when I come.” She opens a canteen of water, setting it to the side. “I wasn’t planning on it this time, but then the bond happened…” She lifts a swath of fabric, examining it.

He drops his waistband and a small pouch nearby.

She sets the fabric to the side, peering at the pouch.

“What’s this?” She leans over, extending a hand.

“A surprise.” He drops his overcoat on top of it.

“For me?” She perks up.

“Not so fast,” he warns, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll show you mine after you show me yours.”

“Hm…” She glances at the overcoat. “I guess that’s fair.” She reaches for it even as she says this.

“ _Patience_ …” He nudges her away with a boot.

She drops her hand, eyeing the coat.

He walks a few steps away, continuing to brush himself off.

Rey stares intently at the overcoat, trying to sense what’s under it.

“Are you going to give me something to wash with or not?”

“Oh, right.” She jerks back, returning her attention to the pile. She grabs the canteen and scrap of cloth, pouring water over the fabric

“Here.” She rises, stepping towards him with the dampened cloth.

He takes it, wiping his hands cursorily as he inspects the cavern.

“I’ve never seen this before.” He walks towards the cave wall. “The way the crystals are moving, changing their shape. I’ve only seen them do that when someone touches them.”

“I haven’t either, actually…” Rey walks up to him as he wipes the back of his neck. “They are _really_ energized tonight, more so than usual.”

“And that’s because of me?” He turns, casting the cloth to the training mat.

“Well…” She tilts her head. “Because of us.”

“Us?”

“Yes.” Rey steps back, squinting as she looks up at the crystals. “They know why you’ve come, and they’re excited we’re here together, all chattering like crazy. They love talking about us.”

“What?” He jerks towards her. “Why? What have you told them?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “But they know everything anyway— about the bond, our relationship, _everything_.”

“But…” He narrows his eyes. “How?”

She purses her lips.

“Do you remember…” She turns to him slowly. “When I told you that the crystals think of themselves as a single being?”

He nods.

“Well, I’ve discovered why that is. A couple months ago, I asked them to explain it to me. And, in _typical fashion_ …” She rolls her eyes. “They said it was impossible to explain, something that could only be understood by experience. So…” She shrugs. “They invited me in.”

His eyebrows shoot up.

“To the _collective_?”

“Yes.” She shifts to the wall. “They let me experience their single consciousness, what it’s like to be them.” She steps towards the crystals, all different shapes flickering brightly. She lifts a hand to shade her eyes.

“And what was it like?” He follows next to her.

She smiles, continuing to the wall. She stops just in front of it, kneeling before a small cluster at the bottom, seven crystals arranged like a flower, each one no larger than a fist.

Ben crouches next to her.

“Have you ever…?” She reaches for the center crystal. “Just sat and meditated until you felt like you could see everything around you— every object, every movement, _everything_ both alive and dead?

“Yes, of course.”

“Well…” Her hand travels, touching the crystals around the center. “Multiply that by a billion and you’ll start to understand what it’s like to see the way they do.”

He immediately seizes.  

He’s shocked but processing quickly, surprise transforming to revelation.

He shoots to his feet.

“They’re _omniscient_.” He steps to the wall, not bothering to shield his eyes. “ _Of course_ , they are.” He reaches for one of the clusters.  

Rey rises, smiling.  

He starts walking along the wall, touching a few of the crystals as he goes.

“They’re so attuned to the Force, they practically _are_ the Force.”

“That’s the gist of it, I think.” She follows a step behind. “It’s how they know so much, even though they’ve never left the cave.”

“So, they see everything all the time?”

“Yes, together.” She picks up her pace as he does. “They see everything together, feel everything together—”

“They _feel?_ ” He halts, snorting.

“Yes, they _feel_.” She shoots him a look. “Each crystal has its own personality, its own thoughts and emotions. But when they’re part of the collective, they share everything, so much so that every emotion is experienced as their own.”

“So, when you’re part of the collective…” He focuses on a cluster in front of him. “You see _everything?_ ”

“No.” She shakes her head. “The crystals have to protect me, limit my sight to keep me from going mad. And…” She eyes a few of the clusters. “I suspect there are things they don’t want me to see.”

“Like what?”

“Like where _my_ crystal is.” She widens her eyes. “They’re very adamant that I should come by it a certain way, at a certain time.”

“Wait a minute.” He turns. “If they already know how you’ll come by your crystal…”

“They can see the future.” She nods. “For them, time isn’t linear but happens all at once.”

His jaw drops.

He shifts back to the crystals, welling with a deep sense of awe.

“Rey…” He reaches for one but doesn’t touch it, hovering an inch away. “Do you realize what this means?” He glides his hand over the crystals, feeling their energy.

“They…” He touches one reverently. “Are an archive. The _ultimate_ archive. They’re the seat of all knowledge, everything that’s ever been or will be, only no one’s been able to access it.” He glances at her. “Until now.”

She lets out a laugh.

“Ben…” She shakes her head. “My access is _very_ limited. I don’t have a clue what they’re saying half the time and no matter how much they grow to trust me, it’s in their nature to be secretive.”

“Still.” A smile twinges his lips. “There are scholars who’ve devoted their _entire lives_ to studying kyber, yet you’ve discovered more than about them in less than a year. _You_ …” He points at her. “Could be the key.”

“The key to what?”

“ _Everything_.” He steps forward. “Understanding the crystals, the true nature of the Force, what the Jedi and Sith have been fighting about for _millennia_.” He squints with a glimmer. “ _You_ could be the one who finds the answers.”

Rey parts her lips, but says nothing. She feels herself drawn in, drawn into those dark eyes, so confident and full of possibility.

She recognizes that look. She’s seen it before. And she can’t help but be mesmerized by it, the way it seems to reflect a different version of herself— someone powerful beyond measure, not afraid of the power but emboldened by it, a beacon to lead others forward.

She looks down, a swell in her chest. The implications begin to set in— everything she could learn from the crystals, what she could do with that knowledge…

But the swell is soon countered by a heavy weight.

For a moment, she darkens, realizing what this _really_ means, the responsibility that comes with the opportunity.

She gulps.

“And to think…” She looks up, squaring her shoulders. “All this time, people like you thought the crystals were only good for making weapons.”

He flinches, looking away. He turns his back to her, walking a few steps by the wall.

“I hear you’ve been busy,” she says quietly.

He halts.

And just like that, a thick tension descends, filling the space between them.

They both know what she means. It hangs in the air, an unspoken rebuke.

He’s been mining a lot of kyber lately.

 _A lot_.

She hears about it every time she returns to the cave, the crystals bemoaning the loss of more and more deposits, disappearing and respawning somewhere else just as quickly.

And the worst part of it is…

It’s her fault.

It has to be.

Because it started not long after the bond brought them together in that labyrinth of tunnels. She told him what she’d learned, how the crystals are spreading out, burrowing themselves deep underground.

And he used that information. He used it to hunt them down and mine them.

She closes her eyes, sinking.

She needs to be more careful about what she tells him about the crystals. She has to protect them, keep them from—

“Do they mourn?”

She snaps up, startled by the question.

Ben shifts to face her. He appears even, but she senses his emotions, a twinge of guilt.

She takes a deep breath, turning to the wall.

“They don’t, actually.” She looks up at the crystals. “At least, not in a way I can tell. They complain about it, especially the fact that they have to hide, separating themselves in smaller deposits. But…” She tilts her head. “At the same time, they’re very accepting, taking the loss in stride. _Nothing_ surprises them.” She widens her eyes. “The benefit of knowing the future, I suppose.”

He nods, his face solemn. He turns to the wall.

A minute passes as both of them examine the crystals, clusters stretching out and overhead, lighting the cavern with a white-blue glow.

Rey closes her eyes, her surroundings falling away as she concentrates on the voiceless whispers swirling in her head.

For once, it doesn’t take long to understand their words, a thousand crystals berating her impatiently.

“Alright, alright,” she mutters, opening her eyes.

Ben glances at her.  

“They’re, uh…” She laughs, gesturing at the wall. “Keen on showing what you’ve come to see.”

“Well, then.” He steps towards her. “Let’s not disappoint them.”

She nods, taking a breath as she looks up.

He moves just next to her.

“Ok…” Her eyes travel to the ceiling. “Let’s sit down.” She takes a seat next to the wall.

He joins her, settling on the ground just a couple feet away.

“So, before we do this…” She crosses her legs. “You should know that the crystals are _extremely_ difficult to understand. Their language is more felt than spoken, and they’re very cryptic, sometimes on purpose but…” She shrugs. “Mostly it’s because they only know how to talk to each other.” 

Ben listens, nodding.

“Trying to make sense of their words is a process.” She raises her eyebrows. “A _difficult_ one.”

“When did you realize they talk about us?”

“Today.” She grunts. “They’ve been doing it this whole time and I had _no idea_.” 

“What was different about today?”

“Nothing, really.” She shakes her head. “I just finally put two and two together. For example…” She scoots towards him. “It started when I noticed they repeated the same word _a lot_ , over and over. The best translation would be something like…” She squints. “Mold-breaker…?” She offers tentatively. “Or pattern-breaker? _Then_ , a few weeks ago, I realized they often used the word in the plural— mold- _breakers_.”

“And that’s us?” He gestures between them.

“ _Exactly_.” She leans in. “Ben, it was so surreal…” She gazes up at the crystals. “They were talking about the mold-breakers like they normally do, only this time I had a better sense of the context because I’ve learned more of their words, and…” She shakes her head. “I realized they were talking about the time you put me on the memory walk.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up. “Why? What were they discussing?”

“All kinds of things.” She straightens. “They didn’t just talk about that but also the time I healed your shoulder, the time you helped me pick the lock, the time I kept freezing you in the training room—”  

“But _why?_ ” He interrupts. “Why discuss _those things?_ What were they debating?”

She looks down.

“Something about…” She starts carefully. “The truth of the Force. And…” She slides her jaw to the side. “How I have a better sense of it than you do.”

“ _What!?_ ”

“ _I_ didn’t say it.” She points to herself. “ _They_ did.” She points to the wall.

“But…” He sputters. “If they call us both the same thing, how did you know they were talking about you?”

“Because.” She juts her chin up. “I’ve learned how they indicate gender.”

He twitches, looking away.

“A few thought _you_ had the better sense of the Force,” she adds hastily. “At least… the potential to.”

He tenses, irritated.

“And what was the point?” He demands. “Why argue about that?”

“I’m not _entirely_ sure…” She glances at the wall. “But I know it was something about the purpose of the bond.”  

“Really?” He perks up. “Did they say what it was?”

“ _That_ …” She points at him. “Is why you’re here. I asked them about it, about the bond and its purpose.”

“ _And_?”

“And I want you to see what they showed me.”

“Alright…” He knits his eyebrows. “But why did I have to be here for that? Couldn’t you have just shown me the memory?”

“ _No_.” She shakes her head. “The crystals communicate with feelings as much as anything else. If I just showed you the memory, you wouldn’t get the full experience. But if you’re _here_ …” She points to the ground. “In my mind when I ask them again…”

“Let’s do it.” He sits up. “Right now. Are they ready?”

“ _Oh, yes_.” She looks at the crystals. “Very ready.”

“Good.” He scoots close. “Just let me know when.” He closes his eyes. She senses his eagerness, a boyish kind of excitement.

She smiles, closing her own eyes.

“I’m ready.”

Not a second later, she feels invisible fingers slip into her mind. She can’t help but recoil, that vulnerable feeling washing over her.

But it doesn’t last long.

Because the crystals don’t wait for her to ask the question. They swoop down on her, overwhelming her senses. She gives herself over to them, and they eagerly take control, sweeping everything away until there’s only darkness.  

The darkness is empty, but not in a lonely way. There’s an evenness to it, not good or bad, just there.

Then, very slowly, it starts to change. It’s as though the darkness just realized it’s empty and needs to be filled. It maintains its evenness but grows more dynamic, the evenness no longer a void of feeling but a balance of it, like a scale teetering slightly from side to side.

Warmth blends with cold and as it does, a tiny light appears in the distance. It’s faint at first, but grows brighter, soon joined by others, scattered across the darkness like stars.

Then suddenly, they’re in motion, the stars rushing by like at lightspeed except they’re in color, flying past in brilliant streams— blue, green, gold, pink, every color imaginable. They weave and blend, whipping by faster and faster.

Yet, despite the speed, the peacefulness remains, that teetering scale of warmth and cold, one sometimes stronger than the other but never overwhelmingly so. They coexist, an easy, natural balance.

But, gradually, the scale begins to tip, the warmth rising dramatically and the cold receding in turn, back and forth. The relationship between them changes, from steady coexistence to a violent tug of war, one seeking to shrink the other. 

The streaming colors grow wild, unstable. Instead of blending gently, they grow frantic, crisscrossing all over the place so there’s no longer a sense of speeding forward but jerking down and up, from side to side, lost in an array of clashing colors.

In an instant, it stops, the streaming colors no longer in motion, only twinkles in the blackness. The violent tug of war halts, not gone but suspended.  

It’s like time just froze. Everything looks frozen, feels frozen.

Until two celestial bodies creep into view from either side. They move towards one another, vague circular shapes, expanding and contracting subtly. One’s a bluish-white and the other looks like fire, a blaze of red and orange.

As they get closer, they start to speed up, heading towards an inevitable collision. It feels dangerous, destructive, like the moment they touch, they’ll explode, taking the whole universe with them.

But then, just before they speed into one another, they change, the edges of each circle growing hazy. Instead of colliding, they merge, a bleeding of blue and red that seems to search for a new shape. Its color starts to change, joined by greens and yellows and purples, all manner of shades swirling together in a giant mass.

The mass expands, consuming everything around it, swallowing the stars and the blackness as it grows brighter and brighter, the brilliant colors slowly blending until they disappear into blinding white light. It expands until it covers everything, until there’s only shimmering whiteness.

But the white isn’t just white. It only seems that way at first. After a few moments, it’s true nature emerges, the combination of every color there is, coming together to form a single brightness.

It’s beautiful, not just the sight of it but the way it feels, dynamic but peaceful, full of every emotion imaginable, gradients of warmth and cold existing all at once. There are cycles, combinations that grow stronger than the others, but they recede just as they overwhelm, another combination of warmth and cold emerging in its place.

It’s perfect.

Perfect balance. Perfect stability. A oneness of spirit despite all the different colors, all the different emotions.

It’s so beautiful that when the vision disappears, it feels bleak, like waking to find your happy life, full of peace and joy, was only a dream.

The crystals withdraw slowly, easing from Rey’s mind. Ben leaves with them, invisible fingers slipping away.

She takes a deep breath, bringing herself back to the present, keeping her eyes closed until that terrible bleakness wanes and she feels like herself again. 

She opens her eyes, squinting to adjust to the light. She blinks a few times, Ben gradually coming to view.

He looks strange, dazed, like he can’t remember where he is. He’s staring down, eyes distant.

“Ben?”

She tries to sense his emotions but he feels numb.

“Ben?”

He squints at the ground, eyebrows furrowed.

The next instant, he sits up, shaking his head.

“What the hell was that?” He points at the wall.

Rey tsks.

“Welcome to the joys of communicating with kyber crystals.” She smiles wryly. “They don’t exactly give straight answers.”

“ _That_ ,” he spits. “Was a vision, not an answer. How are we supposed to make sense of that?”

“By talking about it, of course.” She shrugs. “Trying to interpret what we saw, what we felt.”

He rolls his eyes.

“We might as well have gone to a fortune-teller,” he mutters. “Opened up a toccat to read its entrails.”

“That wasn’t divination, Ben,” she admonishes. “The crystals _actually_ know the future. We should listen to them.”

“But can they not give us a clearer answer than that?” He throws a hand up at the wall. “Can’t you talk to them? Ask them what it means?”

“I _did_.” She widens her eyes. “But they ignored me, which is their way of saying ‘Figure it out.’”  

He pushes out an exhale.

“Listen.” She draws a knee into her chest. “I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s the closest we’re going to get to understanding the purpose of the bond.”

He scoffs.

“What?” She leans forward. “You have a better idea?”

He looks away.  

“That’s what I thought.” She leans back. “You said it yourself. The crystals are so connected to the Force, they practically are the Force. If we’re ever going to figure out what it wants from us, they’re our best bet.”

He shakes his head, annoyed. But she senses him relent…

“So.” He sighs. “I take it you have an interpretation of what they showed us?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She juts her chin up. “And was thinking about that very thing when the bond brought us together today.”

“Alright.” He presses a palm on the ground, shifting back. “What is it then?”

She straightens, squaring her shoulders.

“I think…” She crosses her legs, wiggling a little closer. “That the key to the vision was that middle part, the part where it was like racing through space at lightspeed, all the colors rushing by. Tell me.” She leans in. “What did you feel then?”

He glances to the side.

“I felt…” He purses his lips. “Like I was in a war. Especially near the end.”

“Yes!” She practically interrupts him.  “So, you felt it, too? The violence, like two sides were trying to destroy each other?”

He nods.

“Did you feel anything…” She pauses. “Familiar?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “A lot of things felt familiar.”

“Yes, but did you feel anything _extreme_ , the kind of thing you’ve only felt once?” 

“Like what?”

“Like…” She looks down. “Death. Lots of it.”

He instantly darkens. A heavy weight descends, crushing him. He struggles against it, but it only grows stronger, filling his heart with shame.  

He knows what she means.

Because he felt it too.

She crosses her legs, resting her hands in her lap.

For a moment, both of them are silent.

“I know what death feels like,” she starts quietly. “But what I felt in that vision, near the end, before everything froze… That’s something I’ve only felt once.” She presses her lips together. “It was when the First Order destroyed Hosnian Prime.” 

He bows.

“But, I felt something else too.”

He glances up.

“Right after it, I felt something similar but on a smaller scale, thousands of lives crying out in pain. It reminded me of being on Starkiller, what I felt as we escaped, the planet collapsing in on itself.”  

He grunts, his lips twisting grimly.

“We lost a lot of people that day.”

“I know,” she whispers. “We’ve all lost a lot people. And we keep losing more and more and more. That’s what I felt in that part of the vision— an escalation of death.”

He gazes across the cavern.

“I just can’t take my mind off it, the way one side kept trying to snuff the other out, going to more extreme lengths to do it— _more_ violence, _more_ destruction.” She takes a breath. “And I couldn’t help but think about the past, how we got to where we are right now.”

He looks back at her.

“I thought about…” She extends a hand to one of the crystals, touching it lightly. “The Empire, how they used kyber to make the Death Star, a weapon capable of _so much_ death. I thought about how Skywalker destroyed it. But…” She withdraws. “The Empire just built another one, nearly destroyed the Rebellion.”

She sighs.

“Then the Rebellion bounced back, destroyed the Death Star again, destroyed the Empire. But that wasn’t the end.” She shakes her head. “The First Order just grew up in its place, built weapon that was _even worse_ , destroyed a whole star system. Then the Resistance destroyed the weapon, and the First Order responded by nearly destroying us and building another one in its place.” She cocks her head. “Sound familiar?” 

He just stares.    

“ _We_ …” She sucks in a breath. “ _Are stuck_. We’re stuck in a pattern that gets deadlier and deadlier every time we repeat it. It’s like we’re doomed to follow the same cycle, again and again.” She pushes out an exhale. “Unless…” She leans in close. “ _We_ _break it_. _Break_ the pattern. _Break_ the mold.” She beats her palm with a fist.

“Ben, _this_ is it.” She sits up. “I’m _sure_ of it. This is what it’s all for, the bond, our relationship. _We_ …” She gestures between them. “Are destined to find _another way_ to end this war, one where one side doesn’t destroy the other.”

He listens intently, black eyes swimming.  

“I mean…” She throws up a hand. “Clearly, that’s not working. The Resistance can’t destroy everyone who thinks like you anymore than the First Order can destroy everyone who thinks like us. We _have_ to find another way. That, or we’ll just keep running in circles until we’re all dead.”

Ben looks distant now, deep in thought.

She backs away, watching closely. She tries to be patient, give him time to process, but it feels like a thousand insects are crawling under her skin.

She waits, tapping the ground with a foot.

“So…” She can’t stand it any longer. “What do you think?”

He gazes across the cavern, seeming unaware of her.

After a minute, he sits up, turning to the wall. He reaches for one of the clusters, touching the center crystal.

“I think…”

She senses his emotions, a heavy reluctance.

Her shoulders sink.

“You…” She looks down. “You don’t agree.”

“I didn’t say that.” He turns to face her.

“You don’t have to.”

“Rey…” He sighs. “It’s just…” He shakes his head. “That part of the vision, the violence, the jerking from side to side… It felt different to me.”

“ _How?_ ”

“Everything you just talked about, the Empire, the Rebellion, that’s only been in the last century. But the _vision…?_ ” He raises an eyebrow. “It felt bigger. It felt like millennia. Didn’t it?”

“I guess…” She bobs her head. “It did.”

“So, if we’re meant to break a pattern, it’s one that’s been going on for a _long_ time, thousands of years even.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” He dips his chin. “The struggle between Bogan and Ashla, the dark and light. How much do you know about that?”

Her eyes flit upward.

“Not as much as you, I’m sure.”

“Well, it’s been going on _forever_.” He leans in. “The Force Wars of Tython. The First Schism. The Hundred-Year Darkness. You know that’s where the Sith come from, right?”

She tilts her head.

“They were the exiles after the war,” he informs her. “The Jedi banished them, deemed their interpretation of the Force a perversion, _refused_ to recognize any value in it. And so…” His turns his head wryly. “The Sith sought revenge, wanted to destroy Jedi _completely_ , just like they tried to destroy them.”

She looks down.

“They weren’t any better, really. The Sith were just as dogmatic, just as narrow-minded. They saw the light only as weakness.”

Rey says nothing, just stares at the ground, processing.

After a minute, she looks up.

“The Sith…” She purses her lips. “They were behind the creation of the Empire, were they not?”

“Yeah.”

“And what was left of the Jedi, they allied with the Rebellion?”

“What’s your point?” He narrows his eyes.

“Well, it seems like these wars over the past century are just an extension of the Force wars, the struggle between dark and light.”

“You could say that.”

“So, we’re essentially talking about the same thing. Two sides trying to destroy each other but never able to fully do it.”

“Kind of…” He starts carefully.

“What do you mean _kind of?_ ”

“Come on, Rey. Think about it.” He sits up. “Think about the end of the vision, celestial bodies like water and fire becoming a white light, expanding to cover everything.”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that _exactly_ what the crystals told you when you asked them about the dark and the light? There’s only one Force, they said.”

“They did—”

“And when you heard them talking about us,” he cuts her off. “Everything you mentioned had something to do with the Force. I mean why argue about who has a better sense of it when discussing the purpose of the bond?” He gestures to the wall. “It just makes sense, it fits what they showed us— the scope of it, what we saw at the end. Maybe _that’s_ the purpose of the bond, for us to end all this squabbling about the dark and the light and build something new, a way of viewing the Force that reflects what it _really_ is.”

But…” She knits her eyebrows. “These wars, the Empire, the First Order, that’s been part of the squabbling. You and Snoke wanted to use the First Order’s power to wipe out the Jedi for good.”

“That’s true,” he admits. “But politics aren’t the heart of the struggle. Ideology is.”

“What’s the difference?”

He groans, throwing his head back.

“Rey…” He covers his eyes. “Can we not…” He drags a palm over his face. “Consult the crystals about this, describe both our interpretations and ask who’s right?”

She snorts.

“First off, I don’t know enough of their language to describe all this, and _secondly_ …” She hugs a knee into her chest. “Even if I did, they wouldn’t answer me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“ _Yes, Ben_ …” She rolls her eyes. “Trust me. I know them. It won’t be worth the effort.”

He glances to the side. After a minute, he gets a sly look, like he’s hatching some sort of plan.

 “ _Maybe_ …” He has a glint in his eye. “We could go about this indirectly. Instead of asking about the vision, we could ask about the bond, get at the answer we need another way.”

“Like…?”

“Like we can ask when the bond will _end_.” He leans in. “Presumably, it’ll stop once we fulfill its purpose. So maybe their answer will give us better idea of what that is.”

“ _If_ they answer.” She cocks her head.

“Would you at least _try it_?” He goads. “Surely you can ask something that simple, no?”

“ _Yes_.” Her eyes flit upward. “I can do that.”

“Ok, so…” He gestures to the wall.

“Fine.” She pushes out an exhale. “Fine.” She crosses her legs. “I’ll give it a try.”

She adjusts on the ground, straightening and closing her eyes. She feels Ben watching her, feels his impatience.

She ignores him, concentrating on the voiceless whispers passing through, letting them fill the foreground of her mind.

It always takes a couple of minutes to get used to the language, sense the words, their meanings, as much felt as spoken. But soon, she’s consumed in the conversation, making out pieces here and there. The first word she catches is “mold-breakers.”

They’re talking about them again.

She breathes deeply, reaching out through the Force. First, she calls to the crystals, trying to get their attention. One by one, they start swimming in her head, indicating receptiveness. She starts putting together the question, feeling every word, a language of the heart.

To her surprise, the crystals answer the moment she finishes, repeating the same thing again and again, a rising chant filling her mind.

She opens her eyes slowly. She blinks a few times, the crystals fading to the background, Ben’s face coming into view.

“Did they answer?”

“Yes.” She sounds distant.  

“ _And?_ ”

“They said…” She stares into space. “The bond will end when we become one.”

His shoulders drop.

“That’s…” He sighs. “Not exactly what I was hoping for.”

Rey’s eyes drift to the ground. She feels dazed, lost in the chant of a thousand whispers echoing in her mind, the way the words felt as the crystals repeated them over and over.

It felt like being in the eye of a storm, tension and violence swirling around her, threatening to sweep her into the fray. And yet, she felt so grounded, enveloped in a warm sense of belonging.

It felt like being in his arms. It felt like home.

“What do you think they mean?”

She snaps up, startled.

Ben watches her closely.

“I…” She takes a breath. She still feels dazed, faraway. “I don’t know. Maybe they mean… our ideologies?” She scrunches her face. “Our way of thinking? Like a oneness of mind, sharing the same goals?” She flinches, already critical of this interpretation.

It just doesn’t match what she felt…

“Could be.” He brings a hand to his jaw. “Or maybe it’s more literal.”

“Like…?” She knits her eyebrows.

“Like a physical oneness.”

She immediately shoots him a look.

“Not like _that_ ,” he clarifies. “Though…” His lips turn up. “Perhaps we shouldn’t dismiss the idea.” He squints teasingly.

She shakes her head but can’t fight a smile.

“I mean…” He scoots a little closer. “That the bond exists to bring us together even though we’re apart. So maybe when we’re physically together most of the time, it won’t be necessary.”  

She nods slowly, considering this.

“Or maybe it’s both,” he continues. “When we’re one in the sense of sharing the same goals, we’ll be one in the physical sense as well— in one place, one position.”

Rey grunts, rolling her eyes.

“In the same position, huh?” She raises a mocking eyebrow. “Like… ruling the galaxy together?” 

He smiles, a glint in his eye.

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sure it does to _you_." She glares at him.

“Rey…” He pushes out an exhale. “ _Come on_. Be logical about this. You’re letting prejudice blind you.” His sounds imperious now. “ _Think_ about it. Whatever it is we’re supposed to accomplish, we certainly can’t do it while we’re on opposite sides of a war, opposite sides of the galaxy. We have to come together _somehow_.”

“And ruling at the head of the First Order is the _only possible way_ we could come together, huh?”

“It makes the most sense.” He doesn’t skip a beat. “We’ll have more power, the best ability to effect change.”

She shakes her head, looking away.

“Rey, _for once_ , think about this objectively—”

“Ben, let me ask you something.” She whips towards him. “If I asked you to abandon the First Order _today_ , to join the Resistance and be with me, would you do it?”

“ _No_.”

“ _Exactly_.” She shoots forward. “So why do you expect me to do something you wouldn’t even _consider_ doing yourself?”

He clenches his jaw.

“Why do _I_ have to be the one to bend, the one to abandon _everything_ I’m building, _everyone_ I care about?”

“ _Rey_.” His tone is clipped. “Do you _not_ expect me to do the _exact same thing_ , to become Ben Solo and abandon _everything_ I’ve worked for so I can join you in tearing it all to pieces?”

“No.”

He narrows his eyes.

She tenses.

“I _admit_ …” She crosses her arms. “There was a time when that’s what I wanted, what thought the bond was for, but…” She looks down. “As time went on, as the bond started to change, we started to change, I don’t know…” She grows distant. “It just didn’t feel right, anymore. These days I feel like the bond doesn’t exist so we can convert each other but so we can compromise, find a middle ground.” She gazes into nothing.

After a moment, she sits up.

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “I’m still figuring it out. My ideas about the bond are always changing. Every time it brings us together, I get a new piece of the puzzle and the way I think about it shifts, just a little.” She tilts her head. “I’d like to it’s evolving.”

Ben stares blankly, his expression cold, like a mask.

“Tell me…” She narrows her eyes. “Is it the same for you?”

He just stares at her.

“Has your thinking about the bond changed since it started happening?” She raises an eyebrow. “ _Or_ …” She leans in. “Have you always just seen it as a tool to get what you want?”

She catches the subtlest flinch.

For a moment, they glare at each other, eyes locked in a kind of battle.

Finally, Ben looks away, twitching.

The tension is thick now, filling the space between them. It’s feels almost palpable, like she could reach out and touch it.

“You know what I think?” She juts her chin up.

He doesn’t look at her.

“I think…” She keeps her eyes on him. “You’re so _obsessed_ with this fantasy of us ruling together that you’re blinded by it.”

He hardens his jaw. 

“I think it’s the reason you _refuse_ to see any truth to my interpretation of the vision, of the bond.”

He tenses, but says nothing.  

“It can’t be true because it conflicts with what you want. You’re too stubborn to consider a future different from the way you see it.”

“I’m not the only one who’s _stubborn_ ,” he snaps at her. 

“That’s true.” Her gaze doesn’t waver. “But I’m willing to question myself, question my beliefs, my feelings. If I encounter something uncomfortable, I don’t push it away. I _confront it_. I _think about it_.” She leans in. “What about you?”

He struggles to maintain eye contact, wincing with a flash of insecurity.

But he quickly hardens, burying the feeling.

Rey closes her eyes, consumed with frustration.

But it’s not the angry kind. It’s the sad kind, that soul-weary disappointment that only comes from seeing someone you love be their own worst enemy.

She sighs.

They both feel heavy now, exhausted from the tension, this back and forth that seems to get them _nowhere_. She senses his irritation blend with a kind of heartache, almost like desperation.

She glances up.

He’s wearing his mask now, that practiced coldness offsetting what she feels in him, making it all the more stark, all the more painful.

“Hey,” she says softly.

He looks up, guarded.

“Take a break?”

He relaxes, some of that coldness melting away.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Let’s take a break.”

He lets out an exhale, dragging a palm over his face. She takes a few breaths, concentrating on each one, gradually letting go of her frustration until she feels calm and even. They both shift a little, their muscles stiff from sitting so long. She stretches, twisting to the wall, then to the mat in the center of the cavern.

Suddenly, she straightens, remembering something.

“Hey.” She turns to Ben.

He’s rolling his neck, still a bit weary.

“Um…” She presses her lips together. “Can I, uh…” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “See my surprise now?”

“Oh.” He jerks back. “Right.” He nods. He uncrosses his legs, pressing his palms on the ground to rise. Once standing, he arches his back, loosening his muscles. She moves to join him and he offers his hand to help her up.

By the time she gets to her feet, his expression has changed, his face soft, his eyes gentle. She can’t help but note the contrast, how quickly he can shift from being so cold and to being warm, inviting even.

“Come on.” His lips tease upward. He pulls her hand, guiding her to the center of the room.

She follows next to him, marveling at the change in energy, how just the touch of him can sweep the tension away. She squeezes his hand and he squeezes back, a silent assurance that even through all their arguing, their feelings for each other haven’t changed.

She can’t help but think back to what the crystals told her, what she felt when they swirled in her mind, chanting that the bond would end when they become one. Such peace in the midst of chaos…

She feels it now in the warmth of his hand, his gentle grip. It makes her feel safe, confident in the knowledge that in spite of the chasm between them, their connection is strong enough to bridge the gap.

He releases her hand as they reach the mat, lowering to kneel by his coat. He uncovers the pouch, and she feels a rush of anticipation at the sight of it. He rises, opening it.  

He reaches inside slowly.

Then he stops.

He glances up, seeming to enjoy holding her in suspense.

She bounces a little, squirming with impatience but also relishing the moment, how excited he is to reveal the surprise.

Finally, he lifts his hand.

She gasps as soon as she sees what’s inside.

_A lightsaber._

“ _Don’t_ lose this one,” he warns, handing it to her.

She takes it with bright eyes, bringing it close to study it. The hilt is silver and gold, a black grip near the bottom. It’s a little heavier than she’s used to but well-balanced, like she could lift it with the tip of her finger and it wouldn’t fall.

“I’m serious, Rey. This is an extremely rare weapon.”

“Why?” She looks up. “What’s special about it?”

“It belonged to a powerful Jedi…” He begins, a glint in his eye. “One of the _fiercest_ warriors who ever lived. Dynamic. Unpredictable. Just the _sight_ of the blade in battle could strike fear into the heart of the enemy. It was unmistakable, a unique color.”

She knits her eyebrows.

“See for yourself.” He nods at the saber.

She backs away a few steps, her eyes fixed on the weapon. She runs a thumb along the hilt.

Then, she switches it on.

An amethyst blade shoots out the end. Rey watches, transfixed, a purple glow lighting her skin.

“The color of a Jedi’s blade reflects the owner.” He clasps his hand behind him, smiling as she studies the saber. “The owner of _this_ blade dabbled in the combat arts of the Sith. He was more aggressive than most Jedi, the only one known to master the form of Juyo without turning to the dark side.”

Rey swings the blade at her side, feeling the force of it, a smooth, powerful strike.

“One could argue,” Ben continues, “he simply learned to manage his darkness, kept it tucked away, a quiet rage he could unleash at will.” 

She weaves the blade from side to side, slow at first but picking up speed. She whips to the right, jabbing the air, the energy of the weapon coursing through her. It feels like a controlled flame, blazing hot but never spreading, a fire that will only destroy what it’s intended to.

She turns it off, gazing at the hilt in her hand. She stares down at it, trying to imagine its former owner. She pictures a man, tall and stone-faced, the kind who’s so cool it’s unnerving. But just beneath the skin, there’s fire, a passion for justice, intolerant of corruption, the _will_ to protect and to lead.

“You know…” She tilts her head, studying the saber. “I think you’re right.” She looks up.

Ben stands a few feet away, watching closely.

“I think we _are_ meant to change how people see the Force.” She turns on the saber and the blade shoots out, casting a purple glow on the cracked earth. She brings it to her face, close enough to feel the heat, close enough to notice subtle gradients of red and blue.

She switches it off again.

“Anger, passion…” She steps towards him, attaching the saber to her belt. “The desire to control, make the change you want to see through will and power. There’s value in these things.”

His eyes flicker.

“As long as they’re balanced.” She stops just in front of him.

He observes her carefully, hopeful but guarded.

“ _But_ …” She juts her chin up. “I think I’m right too.” Her gaze is calm and confident. “We can’t change how people view the Force as long as the galaxy’s so unbalanced. We have to make peace, confront the past, build a foundation for the future. That’s _how_ we’ll show people the truth, that there are no sides, only one Force, one universe, one where we thrive together or die together.”

He listens, hardening, a coldness returning to his eyes. 

“Ben.” Without thinking, she grabs his hand, bringing it to her lips. “ _Please_.” She kisses the warm skin. “ _Please._ ” She looks at him, eyes pleading.

He softens, surprise and tenderness written across his face.

“Will you just _consider_ the possibility that we’re meant to find a diplomatic solution to this war, one where both sides can _live_?”

He swallows, staring at her.

“I _know_ you don’t want to destroy the Resistance.” She encircles his hand with hers. “If you did, you would have done it by now. You don’t want to destroy everything I’ve built, everything your mother’s built because—” Her voice breaks. “Because you love us.”

His throat tightens.

“Please, Ben.” She closes her eyes, pressing her lips against his fingers. “ _Please_. Promise me you’ll think about it.” She looks up at him.

He’s vulnerable now, dark eyes full of pain and love, all his reservations grating against his intuition, the call of his heart.

“I—” He takes a slow breath. “I will.” He nods.

Rey exhales, relaxing.

“On one condition.”

Her face falls. She releases his hand, letting it fall to his side.

He stares down at her, eyes gentle but firm.

“I want you…” He starts slowly. “To consider that part of this diplomatic solution will be you joining _me_ , leading with me at the head of the First Order.”

She inhales sharply.

But the next instant, she lets the initial burst of anger go. She looks to the ground for a minute, processing. Finally, she lifts her head.

“I’ll think about it,” she says quietly.

“Ok.” He nods.

“Ok.”

They stare at each other a moment, evenly at first. But soon, their lips turn upward, a warmth gathering in their eyes.

He lifts a hand to her face, grazing her cheek with a thumb. She steps in, sliding her palms up his chest as he descends.

Their kiss is long and lingering, a manifestation of the desire to connect, push past all their bickering and focus on how they feel about each other. She curls her fingers behind his neck as their lips press softly, one kiss leading to the next. He tilts his head, smiling as they connect again, then again.

They pull away at the same time, reading each other, knowing instinctively what they want to do. He frames her face, resting his forehead on hers as they both close their eyes, surrendering to the warmth, both physical and spiritual, a oneness of the heart.

Who knows how long they stay like this. Neither of them has a sense of time. They’re too lost in each other, in the peace of their closeness.

Finally, Rey opens her eyes. He lingers a moment before lifting his head, inhaling deeply. They gaze at each other, lips turned up in tacit smiles of understanding.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For coming here. For listening to me, considering my point of view.”

He strokes her cheek with a thumb.

“And for this.” She places a hand on the saber at her belt.

His smile deepens.

“That’s not all I brought, you know.”

“Oh?” She perks up. “There’s more?”  

He squints with a glimmer. Then, he backs away, his hands falling from her face as he turns to retrieve the pouch beside the mat. The moment he lifts it, she can see it’s still weighed down, something else inside. He reaches in, letting the empty pouch fall to the ground. He turns back to her, extending his hand.

She takes what looks like another lightsaber, except this one’s much lighter. She looks at it curiously, realizing it’s empty.

“What’s this?” She looks up.

“That’s for _your_ crystal.” He nods to the silver cylinder. “When we find it.”

Her eyes widen, and she looks down, gripping the empty shell. She gazes at the unmade weapon, feeling the thickness of the metal.

 _Her_ lightsaber.

She tingles, a spark in her chest as she imagines the future, how it will feel to _finally_ have a weapon made just for her. She pictures a blade shooting out at the end, blue like Skywalker’s.

No, no. That’s not right.

Maybe purple? A deeper shade, like violet?

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Ben interrupts her thoughts, seeming to read her mind.

“Thank you.” She looks up, her eyes glistening. “For this.” She lifts the cylinder. “Thank you for giving me something to look forward to, for giving me hope.”

He gazes down softly, understanding that her gratitude extends far beyond the empty shell in her hand.

He nods, smiling.

Then he looks up, his gaze drifting to the cave wall.

“The crystals are back to normal,” he observes the cavern, the clusters glowing less brightly. “I guess it’s business as usual now the excitement’s over.” He glances at Rey. “Do you think they’re still talking about us?”

“Probably.” She tilts her head back, eyeing the ceiling.

“Can’t you hear them?”

“Yes,” she answers absently. “But I can’t understand what they’re saying unless I focus. Otherwise, they’re just background noise. I’ve gotten quite good at ignoring them, actually.”

“You’d have to.” He grunts. “If you _sleep_ here.”

At this, she snaps to him, a question in her eyes.

“Do you…?” She bites her lip. “Do you have to go?”

“Not immediately.” He shakes his head. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” she says quickly. “Just curious.”

He squints, sensing there’s more.

She looks down, a little sheepish.

“I just…” She shuffles her feet. “I guess I was hoping you might stay the night.”

“I can do that.”

“You can?” She brightens.

“Of course.” His eyes grow warm. “No one expects me back until the morning.”

She smiles, a swell in her chest.

“Come on.” He nods to the mat beside them. “Get your things and let’s go.” He turns, stooping to retrieve his overcoat.

“Where are we going?”

“The shuttle.” He brushes the coat off. “Where else?”

“Why not stay here?” She knits her eyebrows. “I have pillows, a blanket big enough for both of us.”

He scoffs.

“Wouldn’t you rather sleep on an actual _bed_?”

She bristles at his tone.

“Not really.” She straightens, making herself tall. “I sleep just as well right here. Or on a rock. Or in the grass. I can sleep anywhere, really.”

He eyes her doubtfully. 

“I _can_ ,” she insists.

“Well…” He slips on his overcoat. “Some of us are accustomed to sleeping on an actual _mattress_.”

“Oh, come on…” She crosses her arms. “Surely you’ve slept in the wild before.”

“I _have_.” He stoops down for his waistband. “But it’s been a while.”

“Perhaps it’s time to revisit your past, enjoy the wonders nature.”

“Uh huh.” He glances at her dryly. “It’s truly wonderful, especially the way you can’t turn the lights off.”  

“They’re not so bright now.” She looks up the crystals. “They’re quite dim, actually, just a soft glow. It’s very romantic.”

“I can replicate this light on my shuttle, you know.”

“Yes, but it’s not the same.”

He wrinkles his nose.

“That’s it.” She reaches for his waistband, pulling it from him. “We’re staying here.”

“ _Hey_.” He jerks it back. “This isn’t an executive decision.”

“Ben.” She puts a hand on her hip. “I’ve spent the night in your world. Now it’s time for to spend the night in mine. And guess what? Half the time I’m sleeping underground in a tunnel full of slaves, who _by the way_ spend their entire lives sleeping on the mat like this one _if they’re lucky_.” She leans in.

He groans, rolling his eyes.

“Come on, now. Don’t give me that.” She grabs his waistband again. “It’ll be good for you.”

He grips it more tightly.

“As the Supreme Leader, you should know how a _huge_ chunk of the galaxy goes to bed at night. Who knows?” She cocks her head. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to move up your timeline to shut down the slave markets.”

He pushes out an exhale.

“Fine.” He releases the waistband begrudgingly. “Fine.” He takes off his coat, casting it to the ground.

“That’s the spirit!”  

He rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like it matters.” He nudges the mat with a boot. “I can’t sleep half the time, anyways. If I get six hours, it’s a good night. A _very_ good night.”

“Do you really have such a hard time sleeping?”

He looks away, twitching. Instead of answering, he crouches next to the mat, organizing his things in a pile.

Rey watches, the realization setting in.

Of course, he doesn’t sleep well. He has a lot to worry about. And a lot on his conscience…

She presses her lips together.

After a moment, she moves to the mat, taking a seat next to him. She starts untying her boots and he shifts to sit beside her, doing the same.

“Are you all set for Llanic?” His fingers move quickly.

“ _Mostly_ …” She grabs a heel and pulls. “I’ve got the team together, but I need to debrief them. I’m waiting to hear back from my contact in the market on Radama.”

He nods, sliding off a boot.

“This one should be easy.” He places the boot to the side. “All our intel indicates the cartel’s leadership is weak. You might not have to deal with any bombs.” He pulls off another one. “Though I’d expect to, just to be safe.”

“Of course.” She takes off a sock and stuffs it in her shoe. She pauses as she pulls off the other one, remembering something. 

She’s been meaning to mention this. But she’s always so distracted when they’re together. Better do it now before she forgets...

She takes off the sock slowly. She fiddles with it a second before putting it with the other one. She turns to find Ben staring at her.

He felt the shift, of course…

“What?”

“Uh...” She squirms a little. “I just…” She taps her fingers on the mat. “I just thought you’d want to know…” She looks down.

She feels his eyes on her.

“Do you remember that trooper, the one who beat the man looking for his wife?”

“Yeah?”

“Well…” She takes a breath. “As it turns out…” She glances up. “That wasn’t an isolated incident.”

His shoulders drop.

“My team was spread all over the camp on Kaddak and…” She scrunches her face. “Everyone saw something similar. Some more than once.”

He hardens.

“I’ll take care of it.”

She nods.

They both turn forward, a little awkward now. Rey stares at the ground for a few seconds. Then she reaches for her new saber, sliding it from her belt. She places it carefully next to the mat.

“Rey…”

She turns to Ben. His expression is solemn.

“I want to know if you see something like that again, if _anyone_ does.”

“Of course.” She sits up. “I’ll give you a full report.”

“Good.”

She takes a breath, returning her attention to her belt, undoing the clasp and pulling it off. She sets it next to her boots, then straightens, shifting the Ben. He’s pulling off his undershirt, casting it on the pile with the rest of his things  

“Alright!” She smiles. “Time for you to get a taste of how the other half lives.”

He sighs, shaking his head.

“Don’t be grumpy, now.” She pats his thigh. “It’ll be easier than you think. People do it all the time.” She turns to the mat, grabbing the blanket.

Then she crawls to the pillows at the other end. There are two of them, a little flat but comfortable. She grabs one, stacking it on top of the other as Ben sidles up to her. She scoots down, lying on her side and resting her head on the pillows. She throws the blanket over her.

A second later, he lifts it, curling up beside her, his bare chest at her back. He slips an arm under her, the other wrapping around the front. Whatever irritation he felt is gone now, replaced by tenderness. He rubs her forearm a couple times, his breath at her ear, then covers her hand tucked at her chest.

She exhales, closing her eyes and melting into the warmth.

 _This_ … This right here.

This is what home feels like.

It’s everything she imagined it would be— to feel like she belongs, like she’s precious, a human treasure to be loved and protected, _never_ to be cast away.

She squeezes her eyes shut, wrapping her arms around his wrapped around her. He tightens his hold, nuzzling the back of her neck.

She smiles.

“See…?” She whispers. “This isn’t so bad.”

“No.” He kisses the skin behind her ear. “It’s not so bad.” He breathes deeply, his chest expanding at her back. She wiggles against him, enveloped in his body. It almost feels like she could withdraw into it, become lost there.

For a few minutes, they just lie peacefully, eyes closed, arms wrapped around each other. His breath is warm and even, tickling the hair at her neck.

But soon, it travels, the steady stream moving with his lips as they press softly against her skin, first to her ear then drifting down, following the curve until he reaches tender flesh just above her collarbone.

“You’re not tired?” She tilts her head.

“I’m a little tired.” His lips travel up her neck. “But I’m also distracted.”

She smiles, tucking her chin.

“Well, I’m sorry to be so distracting.”

“No, you’re not,” he whispers in her ear.

He adjusts his arms, a hand moving over her body, slipping under her shirt at the bottom, seeking the warmth of her stomach. His breath changes, less steady now, heavy on the exhales. 

Rey shifts, turning onto her back.

He lifts a little, propping on a forearm.

She gazes up at him, taking a moment to study his features, the angle of his jaw, his full lips, dark locks falling over his face, black eyes with hint of fire. The light of the crystals casts a soft glow from above, giving him an otherworldly look, like he’s in a dream.

She lifts a hand, brushing back a lock of his hair. Then she curls her fingers behind his neck, pulling him down.

They connect, sweet kisses blending softly as he slips a hand under her hip, sliding up the curve of her back. Her heart quickens at his touch, the way she tingles as he travels across her skin.

They’re both smiling as they connect again and again, enjoying the closeness, the shared warmth. They start to build heat, her fingers weaving through his hair as their kisses grow hotter, hungrier. She grips his dark locks, the other hand at his shoulder, feeling the thickness of his muscles. He opens his mouth into hers, gripping the flesh at her hip.

Suddenly, he pulls back, the flame of desire tempered by a realization. He breathes heavily, glancing from side to side, a bit self-conscious.

“What?” She knits her eyebrows.

He lifts his head, looking around the cavern.

“Isn’t it…” He struggles to catch his breath. “A little…” He narrows his eyes at the wall. “ _Weird_ to do this in front of the crystals?” 

Rey lets out a laugh.

“Ben…” She giggles. “ _Trust me_. The crystals aren’t watching us now any more than they normally do.”

“Are you sure?” He eyes them suspiciously.

“ _Yes_. They see so much all the time that they barely have a sense of their physical location. To them, they’re not here but _everywhere_.”

“Hm…” He looks thoughtful now. “That must be overwhelming.”

“Not really.” She shakes her head. “They’re used to it. They see this way from the moment they come into being, all of time and space stretched out before them.” She gazes at the crystals scattered across the ceiling. “They are the universe,” she whispers reverently. “They make me feel very small.” 

She senses him darken. She looks back to find him staring at her, eyebrows knitted.

“ _You_ …” He brushes a strand of her hair. “ _Are not_ small.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” she says quickly. “Just the opposite. Being part of the collective, seeing the way the crystals do…” She glances at the clusters, growing distant. “It’s given me perspective at exactly the time I needed it.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighs.

“Things…” She takes a breath. “Have been hard lately. This escape network we’re trying to build just can’t get off the ground. My team is so massive they’re becoming hard to manage, all these little subgroups and missions. It’s _so easy_ to get wrapped up in it, to feel like the whole galaxy will _implode_ if I can’t get things right.” She widens her eyes.

But soon she softens, her lips turning up.

 

“But it won’t.” She shakes her head. “It never does. No matter my successes or failures, the galaxy will go on, life will go on. In the grand scheme of things, my struggles are just a speck, just another star in the darkness.” She grunts, smiling. “It gives me a strange sense of peace.” She gazes at the crystals. After a moment, she looks to Ben.

His eyes are flickering, confused, a little critical, but also… awed.

She lifts a palm to his face, stroking his cheek with a thumb. He gazes down at her, softening at her touch. He lifts a hand, taking hers into his and bringing it to his lips to kiss the backs of her fingers. He closes his eyes for a moment.

When he opens them, he has a strange look, tender but uncertain. It’s like he’s debating with himself, deciding whether or not to say something. He releases her hand, letting it fall. She sits up a little, curious but sensing his need to process. He stares at her silently, and she stares back, waiting.

“I…” His eyes tighten, pained.

But it’s that beautiful pain, the kind that only hurts because it’s so heavy.  

“I…” He exhales slowly. He brings a hand to her face, caressing her cheek.

“I love you.”

Rey falls back on the pillows, surprised.

“I know.” She nods reassuringly.

“I know you know.” He looks down. “But…” He looks back at her softly. “I wanted you to hear me say it.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, her heart skips a beat. She catches her breath, unable move or speak, only look at him, look into his eyes, feel his emotions, that weight crushing down on him, everything he feels about her, all the love and tenderness, his heart so full it could burst.

She remembers the first time she felt him this way, in this very cave. She remembers his black eyes, so bright and expressive, his voice, confident and knowing, telling her she’s special.

And just like that, a switch flips.

It all washes over her, every memory of every tender moment, everything he is, everything could be, everything he makes her feel, how much she wants him, _yearns_ for him, _aches_ for him, closes her eyes at night and imagines the weight of his body on hers, the strength of his arms wrapped around her, the warmth of his lips, his hands on her skin.

She wants to be close to him, as close as she can get.

And she wants it _right now_.

She shoots up, taking his lips hungrily, wrapping her arms around him.

“I love you.” She can barely speak between kisses. “I love you so much.”

He doesn’t skip a beat, meeting her passion with his own, taking her in, slipping a hand under her shirt, seeking warm flesh.

Suddenly, she pushes back, lifting her shirt up and overhead in one fluid motion.

He widens his eyes, shocked.

But he barely has time to react.

In an instant, she’s all over him, pressing her bare chest against his, gripping his hair, gripping his shoulder, opening her mouth into his, hardly taking the time to breathe.

She feels his desire go wild, flames blazing into an explosion. His hands search her greedily, intent on covering every inch, sliding up her back, across her shoulders. He pushes her to the mat, a hand sliding to her chest, covering soft flesh at her breast.

She wraps her legs around him, reaching up and pulling him in, consuming him. They grasp and grab at each other, taking what they want and not thinking twice.

There’s no reason. There’s no logic. There’s only the heat of the moment, the call of their bodies, the call of their hearts.

They writhe and grind against one another, his hand sliding over her backside, gripping the flesh just under it, pulling her groin into his. She feels him throbbing, feels how much he wants her, a powerful desire, so volatile it seems to rip him apart.

She unlocks her lips from his, bringing them to his ear.

“I want you,” she whispers. “ _Right now_.”

He doesn’t consider the request.

He just reacts.

In a split second, her back is to the mat and he’s fumbling with her pants, undoing them quickly and pulling down, turning them inside out as he rips them off her body.

Her heart skips a beat. She’s nervous but also excited, heady with anticipation.

He’s fumbling with his pants now, pulling them awkwardly over his knees, seeming like he’s rather just tear off the fabric and fling it to the side.

Then suddenly things get quiet.

They’re both stark naked now, her lying on her back, her knees up, her thighs slightly apart, him kneeling in front of her, breathing heavily.

He inches forward, eyes slaking over her body. She can’t help but look down, see that he’s hard and thick.

They’re both trembling as she spreads her legs and he leans over her, planting a hand by her head.

They lock eyes, but his gaze soon drifts to her breasts. He cups one gently, then slides down, following the curve of her body, in at the waist, out at the hip. He stops there, gripping her flesh. He glances up, eyes on fire yet somehow gentle. She feels his desire, intensified by her own, carnal yearning blending with love.

He frames one side her face, a thumb at her cheek. She curls her fingers around his forearm, gripping it gently, drawn into those dark eyes.

Then he sits back, bringing a hand to the other hip, squeezing as he pulls her in. She’s still lost in his gaze when she feels him slip inside her, hard and throbbing. They both catch their breath, somehow surprised, the experience of the moment even more intense than they’d imagined.

He groans, squeezing at the crease of her thighs. She slides a palm to his stomach, moving over his abs, up to his chest.

He begins moving in and out, struggling to maintain eye contact, like it’s too much to feel her and look at her at the same time. He closes his eyes, his breath heavy as he pushes inside her.

She bites her lip, feeling his blood pumping, the hardness of him, and she shivers with a soft moan. She wraps her legs around him, bucking her hips and pulling him in.

He opens his eyes to reveal black flames. He thrusts into her and she gasps, her breasts bobbing up and down. He grabs one of them, squeezing as he picks up speed. Their skin his hot and dewy with sweat, glistening in the soft glow of the cavern.

She senses he’s trying to maintain control but losing it quickly, taking her harder, faster, his pleasure rising with each thrust.

She can feel it. She can feel his pleasure as well as her own, giant waves crashing into each other, intensifying the experience. It’s like nothing she’s ever felt…

He leans over her, trying to slow down.

She gazes at up him, running both palms over his chest, feeling sinews of his muscles. Her legs slide up his back, her breath short, her chest heaving. He pushes a little harder and she gasps, tightening. 

He groans, shaking his head like he just gave up.

He sits back, pushing into her hard and fast, casting aside any attempt at control.

She throws her head back, whining, trembling. She slips her palms under his thighs, gripping him, her pleasure rising with his.

She’s nearing the verge, that top part of the slope where she clenches and contracts, eager to go over the edge yet enjoying the moment, part of her happy to stay close but not quite there. 

She squeezes her eyes shut, becoming pure sensation, her whole body an organ of pleasure. She concentrates on it, her pleasure and his, inching towards the cliff as he thrusts, deeper and harder.

The next instant, she’s arching her back, shaking and moaning as she explodes in waves of pleasure, the first most intense, the others tapering off, gradually dying down. He explodes with her, groaning, squeezing at the crease of her thighs as he pushes into her, slow and deep.

Her legs fall from around him, weak and trembling. They’re both gasping, starved for air, hot and wet with sweat. She covers her eyes with a palm, overwrought and sensitive. He’s still inside her, gripping her gently. 

She opens her eyes to find him leaning over her, his chest slick, dark locks damp and sticking to his forehead.

He gazes at her, his breath starting to slow. He descends, getting closer, so close she feels his breath on her skin. He lifts a hand to her cheek, brushing it with the backs of his fingers, then moving to the other. It’s not until he does this that she realizes it.

She’s crying.

She’s not sure when it happened, but she feels it now, tears streaming down her face. She looks away, a little self-conscious.

He just tilts his head, lowering his lips to hers. She closes her eyes, wrapping her arms around him as they connect— once, twice, three times, each kiss is its own way of saying “I love you.”

He withdraws from inside her but doesn’t back away, kissing her again and again. She tightens her arms around him, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks.

They lose themselves in the intimacy, so focused on each other that they don’t notice it, don’t see the cavern growing brighter, the crystals starting to shimmer.

They’re whispering furiously, debating, talking over each other.

There’s so much to discuss.

Change is coming, and it’s coming _soon_. There’s rough road ahead, of course. Change is never easy…

But the pain will be worth it, the suffering a natural, necessary step on the way to the end.

Or the beginning. As far as the crystals are concerned, those two words are synonyms.

 _Yes_ , the universe is about to shift. Tonight brought them that much closer.

The mold-breakers are merging, starting to take their shape. It’s going to be so, so beautiful…

And they _can’t wait_ for everyone else to see it.

 


	2. Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Daja attempt to make an ally for their escape network.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mature version of chapter 35 of my Reylo fanfic, Bonded. I reiterate the warning from the last chapter. Don't worry... I'll be making edits once the story is done. For now, I hope you enjoy the work in progress!

The Devaronian glances at his cards.

He has two— an eight and a ten— cradled in both hands. They’re slanted down so only he and his company can see them.

Daja sits to his right, her forearms resting on the table. She leans in, looking at the cards then at the silver-robed man sitting across from them.

He’s smirking, like he’s already won.

Rey sits to the left, scanning the table coolly. Everyone’s out of the game except their host and this slimy-looking merchant, cropped white hair slicked back, blue eyes twinkling smugly.

Yet, just under the confidence is a twinge of fear and a kind of grating, like something’s going up when it should be going down. It feels like a lie…

Rey starts to lean in.

But Daja beats her to the punch.   

“He’s bluffing,” she whispers in their host’s ear.

The Devaronian squints, red skin wrinkling around his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me.” Daja’s lips twist up. “I always know when someone’s bluffing.”

Their host stares at his cards. Then he nods, thick horns catching the light. He sits up, squaring his shoulders.

“I’ll see your raise…” He reaches for a stack of chips, lifting it gingerly and casting it on the pile. “And I’ll raise you fifty more.” He slides another stack towards the pot, the chips cascading over it.

For a split second, the merchant twitches.

But he regains composure quickly, that smooth, angled face becoming blank. He stares coolly at their host.

Then he shoots forward, pushing the rest of his chips into the pot. He sneers, sitting back.

The Devaronian widens his eyes. He looks down at his own chips, calculating what’s left. There’s just enough… _barely_.  

He glances from side to side, trying to decide what to do.

“ _Trust me_ ,” Daja whispers, placing a hand on his thigh. “I know this game, and I know when someone’s lying. I can practically _smell it_.” She nods to the merchant. “This guy’s playing you, and it’s time to call him on his shit.”

The Devaronian sucks in a breath, drumming thick fingernails on the table. He stares at his remaining chips.

Finally, he pushes out an exhale.

“You better be right, girl,” he mutters, sitting up.

“I’m always right.” Daja flashes a smile.

Their host shakes his head, but his lips are turned up. He leans in, pushing his remaining chips into the pot.

“Alright, _skinny man_.” The Devaronian leans back, crossing his arms. “Let’s see what makes you so confident.”  

The silver-robed merchant glares, upper lip twitching. He stiffens, reaching for his cards. He turns one over slowly.

A ten.

Rey holds her breath, eyes fixed on the merchant.

He turns over another.

An eleven.

She feels a cold pang of fear rip through their host. She glances over and notices his hands are shaking.

But Daja looks completely relaxed, sitting back casually, smoothing the fabric of her purple gown.

The merchant turns over his last card. The entire table gasps the instant it’s revealed.

A six.

Daja snickers, wiggling as she sits up. She winks at their host.

There’s a swell in his chest now. He’s smiling greedily, revealing rows of yellow teeth.

The merchant bombed out. He didn’t just have a bad hand but a _terrible_ one.

Their host reaches for his cards, turning both of them over with a flair. The table erupts in light clapping, the players nodding in approval.

“Good game.” A short Sullustan bobs. “Good game.”

“The Devaronian wins.” The dealer announces, gesturing broadly to their host.

The merchant fumes, his face growing red.

“We’ll take a short break, then resume in ten minutes.” The dealer clasps her hands lightly. “Be sure to visit the bar for some refreshment.”

The players begin shuffling, rising from the table in waves. The silver-robed man shoots out of his chair so fast it topples over. He doesn’t bother picking it up, just whips around and stomps out of the casino.

The Devaronian chuckles as he leaves.

“My dear…” He turns to Daja. “ _You_ are a gem.” He taps her nose with a long, curled fingernail. “Are you sure you can’t stay? I could have use for a clever girl like you.”

Daja grins, leaning forward. Their host stares shamelessly down the front of her dress.

“You know, I’d _love to_ ,” Daja croons. “But I can’t abandon the boss.” She nods to Rey. “You’re not the only one who needs clever girls.”

“Hmm.” The Devaronian slumps. “Well, I’ll just have to make good use of you while I can, won’t I?” He pinches Daja’s cheek.

She giggles, jutting her chest out.

It’s all Rey can do not to roll her eyes.

“I’d say that last round earned you the most _expensive_ drink on Canto Bight.” Their host pats the table. “Tell me, dear, have you ever had Ipellrilla firewater?”

“Ipell-what?” Daja tilts her head.

Rey can’t stop herself this time, rolling her eyes so hard it hurts. She watched Daja down _six cups_ of firewater not _two weeks ago_. 

“Oh, you poor thing.” The Devaronian shakes his head. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had firewater. And _this_ casino…” He rises from his chair. “Carries a rare stock of it— _completely_ proprietary, no one else in the galaxy has it.” He adjusts his dress coat, smiling. “Shall I order us both a glass?”

“To start.” Daja winks.

Their host shakes his head, amused.

“Feeling adventurous, are we?”

Daja just grins, sticking the tip of her tongue out.

“Alright, my dear.” He pats her shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere.” He begins walking to the bar.

But he halts after two steps. He turns back, eyes on Rey like he just realized she was there.

“Would you…?” He points to her awkwardly. “Like something as well?”

“No, thanks.” She gives him a tight smile.

“Ah.” He nods, a little uncomfortable. Then he turns, walking away. Daja shifts in her chair, watching him go.

“Hey Rey…” She leans back, eyeing their host. “Why don’t you go back to the Falcon?”

“Huh?”

“Listen.” She swings around. “You know I think of you like a sister, so it’s coming from a place of love when I tell you…” She scrunches her face. “You’re terrible at this.”

Rey jerks back.

“Terrible at what?”

“ _Schmoozing_.” Daja widens her eyes. “Flirting, being charming, buttering someone up.”

Rey sighs, crossing her arms.

“It’s…” Daja grunts. “A good thing, really. You’re just so honest. You can’t be anyone but you. But right now, it’s dragging us down, and we _need_ this.” She leans in. “You said it yourself. We _have_ to get a safe house on Canto Bight if this escape network’s ever gonna work, and _this guy_ ,” she sticks a thumb to the bar, “Is our _best shot_.”

Rey sucks in a breath.

“I don’t like him.” She shakes her head. “He’s a _weasel_.”

“Who owns half the storehouses on this planet.” Daja makes a circular motion with a finger. “We _need_ him, Rey. We need his space and we need his influence, and in order to get it, we have to play his little game. We have to let him take us out and flirt…” She shimmies her shoulders. “And bat our eyelashes and wear his stupid dresses.” She flings the fabric of her gown.

Rey sighs, looking down at her own dress.

“I feel naked,” she mutters.

“You look _great_.” Daja pats her knee. “But you’re being a downer, and I need you to get outta here, so I can lock this in.”

Rey furrows her eyebrows. She doesn’t like the idea of leaving Daja alone…

“Rey,” Daja says dryly. “I’ve got this guy wrapped around my little finger. Let me _do this_.” She leans in. “Go back to the Falcon. You’ve had a long week, and you’re only gonna hold me back if you stay.”

Rey slumps, staring down.

“Ok.” She starts to nod. “Ok.” She looks up. “But be careful, will you?”

Daja snorts.

“You should tell _him_ to be careful.” She nods to the bar. “Once you get caught in my web, you don’t get out.” She squints with a glimmer.

Rey can’t help but smile.

“Alright, alright.” She shakes her head, rising from the chair. “Then, try to go easy on him.”

“We’ll see how I’m feeling.” Daja sits back. “You know what firewater does to me.”

“Your limit is two.” Rey dips her chin.

“How about three?”

“How about _one_?”

The women stare at each other, unblinking.

Daja leans forward.

“Two and a half.”

Rey rolls her eyes.

“Fine.” She grabs her pouch hanging over the chair. “Do what you want.” She brings the strap overhead. “But I’m not staying up to take care of you this time.”  

Daja scoffs.

“I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“Uh huh.” Rey adjusts the strap. “Sure, you don’t.” 

Daja looks away, a little sheepish. She straightens, turning to the table.

“Run along, now.” She shoos her flippantly. “The adults are staying up late tonight.”

Rey shakes her head.

“Not _too_ late, ok?” She starts to turn.

But suddenly, she stops, shifting back.

Daja’s leaning over the table now, arranging the Devaronian’s chips into stacks.

“Good call, by the way.”

Daja looks up.

“On the merchant.” Rey tilts her head. “How did you know he was bluffing?”

She grunts.

“I _always_ know.” Daja turns back to the chips. “I’ve got gambler’s genes. The only good thing my father gave me.”

Rey purses her lips. She opens her mouth to say something but stops.  

Daja’s attention is fixed on the table. She appears focused, but Rey senses she’s not, growing uncomfortable under her regard. There’s something else too, something she can’t quite put her finger on…

Rey watches for a moment.

Finally, she backs away.

“See you on the Falcon.”

“See you.” Daja barely looks up.

Rey turns, heading for the exit. She weaves around tables and chairs, dodging casino guests as they stumble around, sloshing their drinks.

Two women are whispering by the arched opening. One points to Rey and the other looks over, raising an eyebrow. She scans her appreciatively, lips twisting into a sly smile. She tries to catch her eye but Rey just ignores her, moving quickly to the deck.   

Once outside, she sighs, looking down at herself. 

This outfit’s ridiculous. It barely counts as clothes. She could have _died_ when the Devaronian gave it to her.

It’s deep red and strapless, tight around the torso, flowing at the hips. The top part is _see through_ except for at her bosom, wispy, gold designs crawling up the back and front. There’s a long slit down the lower half, exposing her right leg. The worst part is that she didn’t have any other shoes so she’s still wearing her boots, brown and grungy.

She’s felt self-conscious all night, desperately trying to cover her bare leg with the flimsy fabric.

She _can’t wait_ to get this thing off.

She picks up her pace, barreling down the steps to the next floor. She looks up at the night sky, stars twinkling across a black canopy covering the ocean. At least it’s beautiful here… That’s the one thing this place has going for it.

She sighs as she thinks back to the Devaronian, the way he wrinkled his nose at the slaves when he took them to visit the fathiers. And he’s what counts as a humanitarian around here…

She rolls her eyes.

Her mind drifts to the Sabacc game, _the money_ these people will throw away for fun while surrounded by some of the most destitute souls in the galaxy. She thinks about the size of the pot, the easy laughs as guests tossed in chips upon chips upon chips. She remembers the silver-robed merchant, the way he fumed when he lost everything.

And her thoughts shift to Daja.

Rey slows, meandering to the rail at the edge of the deck, extending a hand to run along its surface.

It was quite a call, catching the man’s bluff. He was very good at hiding it, hardly showed the slightest sign of weakness.

She looks down, replaying the scene in her mind. She remembers what Daja said about having gambler’s genes.

It’s possible. Some people just seem to have a sixth sense. Finn’s like that sometimes, so intuitive, one of the only people who can tell when she’s putting on a front. Maybe Daja’s like him, just has a natural way of reading what others work so hard to hide.

But there are other things…

Like the way she fights. Her reaction time is _insanely_ fast, faster than anyone she trains with. It’s like she can sense every move before her opponent makes it. There’s only one other person Rey’s fought who can do that…

She drums her fingers on the rail, then pushes away from it, picking up speed. She makes a mental note to ask Ben about this the next time she sees him. Surely there’s some way to tell whether or not someone’s Force-sensitive...

Her lips turn up.

And just like that, her mind is consumed with thoughts of Ben. She thinks about his handsome face, his kind eyes. She remembers the last time she saw him, just two days ago on Llanic, the way he grabbed her _the moment_ Sylas left the room, how he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

They didn’t have much of a debriefing this time. Not that they needed to. Things went off without a hitch— the bombs diffused, the rescues out of the mines before the battle ended. They’ve got a nice little system going. It’s working well, _quite_ well…   

She surges with satisfaction, picturing the scene, curled up with Ben in his quarters. She recalls asking him about Starkiller, why he thinks he needs it. She remembers the look on his face, the feeling in his heart, when she challenged him to build his rule on respect rather than fear.

Her smile deepens.

She barrels down another flight of stairs, oblivious to the guests strolling around her. She moves quickly, a skip in her step.  

 _Yes_. Yes, yes, yes.

They’re getting closer. She can _feel_ it. He’s starting to see, see what the bond’s _really_ about, that they’re destined to end this war without shedding a drop of blood.

It’s going to happen. It’s _been_ happening. His leadership has changed so much over the past year, his priorities, the way he makes decisions. He’s transforming the First Order into something else, a government, less interested in war, more interested in diplomacy.

There are still problems, of course. But the Resistance can work with that. They can negotiate rather than destroy, get justice for the galaxy another way.

Suddenly, Rey darkens, her heart dropping. She pushes past a throng of guests on the way to the landing deck. She strides into an expansive lot, rows of ships stretching out before her. She walks swiftly between them, luxury models towering high.

She crosses her arms, pushing out an exhale.

She stopped by headquarters yesterday, finally got a chance to talk with Leia. She told her about the crystals, the vision, what she thinks it means, the prospect of finding a diplomatic solution to the war.

And… she didn’t react how Rey expected. 

She thought she’d be _thrilled_. Leia’s a peacemaker at heart, and she’s _dying_ to see her son again. Rey assumed she’d jump at the chance to meet him at the negotiating table, find a way to end this conflict without destroying him and everything he’s built.

And she _was_ excited.

At first.

When Rey described the vision, Leia listened intently, that spark of hope in her chest, how much she _yearns_ for reconciliation, for peace, not only for her son but for the galaxy. 

But after Rey finished, she grew quiet. She pictures the image in her mind, Leia sitting back in her chair, eyes dark with thought. She spent what felt like _forever_ processing everything Rey told her, staring at the console, an index finger at her lip. And the more she thought, the more Rey sensed the shift, hope tempering to wariness. 

Finally, she sat up, dropping her hand.

“Rey…” She started slowly. “Tell me.” She pursed her lips. “When you imagine this diplomatic solution, what it will look like, what do you see?”

“I…” Rey’s shoulders dropped. “I imagine a negotiation, both sides coming together to hash things out, find a middle ground.”

“And…” Leia narrowed her eyes. “How long do you think that would take?”

“Uh…” Rey looked up. “A few months. Maybe a year.”

“A year, huh?”

“You…” Rey shifted uncomfortably. “Think it would take longer?”   

Leia tsked.

 “I think…” She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “That I’ve overseen a lot of negotiations in my time. _A lot_. Some between parties with bitter differences like those between the Resistance and the First Order. Do you know what they look like?”

Rey just stared, her hands in her lap.

“They’re _long_.” Leia widened her eyes. “They can take _years_. And they’re hard. Things get ugly. More than once…” She sighed. “I’ve seen them end in violence. It’s a little-known irony about negotiation.” Her lips twisted grimly. “Sometimes all it does is highlight differences, harden the conviction that fighting is the only way to resolve them. Negotiation can hasten a war as easily as it can prevent one.”

At this, Rey sunk in her chair. 

“Rey.” Leia leaned forward, her eyes gentle. “I’m not saying I don’t think it’s possible. I’m not saying I won’t help you.” She placed a hand on her knee. “You _know_ I believe in you. You _know_ I think you and my son are destined to play a crucial role in this war.” Rey could feel Leia’s pride, see it reflected in her eyes.

But soon, her face fell. She sat back, growing solemn.

“But if we’re going explore the possibility of negotiating with the First Order rather than fighting them, I need you to think about the bigger picture.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that this war is about more than you and Ben.” Leia dipped her chin. “It’s about General Hux. It’s about the rest of the First Order, how they’re responding to my son’s leadership. Based on our intel, he’s in a delicate position right now. Opening negotiations with us might not be the wisest decision.”

Rey looked down.

“And we have to think about people on our side too, hardliners like Poe and Madani who won’t accept anything less than the total dismantling of the First Order.” Leia leaned in. “There are many players on the board, Rey, and we have to consider how they’ll react to our actions.”

“But, we can convince them.” Rey shot forward. “We can show them there’s another way, a _better_ one. If they could just see what the First Order is becoming, the kind of leader Ben can be, who he _really_ is.” She widened her eyes. “I can convince him to shut down Starkiller, I _know_ I can.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Leia nodded. “But even if you could, you know our qualms with the First Order extend _far_ beyond Starkiller.”

Rey sighed, crossing her arms.

“Even the so-called good things they’re doing have another side the them. For example…” Leia paused. “Take what my son told you about why he’s hoarding the galaxy’s resources.”

“To prevent future wars.” Rey sat up. “It’s a good idea, building a foundation for peace.”

“True…” Leia said carefully. “But what do you think Madani would say to that?”

Rey pushed out an exhale.

“Probably…” She shifted a little. “Something about the dangers of monopolies.”

“ _Exactly._ ”

Rey twitched, tightening her arms.

“And what about the fact that the First Order is only in power because it _destroyed_ the previous government along with _billions_ of lives?” Leia raised an eyebrow. “No matter what good they do, they can’t erase the past. People still want justice for Hosnian. They want the First Order to answer for their actions, and they’re _right_ to do so.”

Rey bristles, cringing at the memory. She shakes her head, returning her focus to the present. She looks up and around, catching her bearings.

Ah. There it is. The Falcon’s straight ahead, near the back of the deck.

It’s not like it’s hard to find. It sticks out like a sore thumb, a dinky, scraped-up freighter surrounded by luxury ships.

Rey reaches into her pouch, searching for the remote. She slows as she approaches, still scrounging. Finally, she finds it buried at the bottom. She presses the button as she pulls it out.

The Falcon creaks open, the ramp lowering to the ground. Rey grabs the strap of her pouch, bringing it overhead as she hops on the ramp. She ascends into the ship, closing it behind her and shoving the remote back in her pouch. She drops it on the floor, immediately turning to the lounge.

She sinks on the edge of the seat by the hologame table, bringing a boot up. She starts to untie it, her fingers moving quickly. She tries to focus on the moment, the comfort of the ship, the opportunity for some much-needed rest.

But she still hears Leia’s voice in her head.

Rey jerks at the heel of her boot, pulling hard. She moves to the other one, her shoulders tense and rigid. She yanks it off, casting it to the side, not seeing where it lands. She pulls off her socks, then scoots back on the lounge, drawing her knees into her chest. She furrows her eyebrows, staring ahead.

For a minute, she doesn’t move. She just stares, arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

Finally, she lets out an exhale. She shifts, propping her feet on the table, the slit of her dress falling open. She crosses her arms, resting against the lounge.

Part of her is angry, frustrated with Leia’s response.

Couldn’t she have been just a _little more_ encouraging? This is about _her son_. Shouldn’t she be willing to do _anythin_ g to get him back?

But it seems she can’t separate her feelings as a mother from her work with the Resistance. She considers everything in context of how it affects her leadership— her mission, her goals.

She’s like Ben in this way.

Or he’s like her.

Rey sighs, her arms falling to her side.

As much as she _hates_ that Leia dumped cold water all over her hopes for the future…

She knows she’s right. The more she thinks about it— Poe, Madani, Finn, everything they hate about the First Order, everything it still is even as it’s becoming something else…

Trying to end this war through negotiation will be tough. _Very_ tough.

It can be done. She knows it, feels it in her heart, that _this_ is what breaking the mold means— showing the galaxy how to make peace even through the bitterest differences.

But, it’ll be a process. A long one. And _hard_. Things will get worse before they get better…

Rey sinks, closing her eyes.

It’s painful. The uncomfortable truth.

She’d been feeling _so good_ since meeting Ben the kyber cave. They’ve never been closer— never more intimate, never more open, never more understanding. She felt like they were on the verge, just a few steps from the end, _this close_ to achieving their destiny.

But after meeting with Leia, it feels far away again, this future where she and Ben become what they were meant to be.

Part of her wants to shove reality to the side, just focus on the happiness of the moment, how right it feels to be close to him. Can’t she just let it all fall away, hide in the comfort of their connection, the way he makes her feel?

She squeezes her eyes shut. She wants this _so badly_ it feels like her insides are burning.

Wait…

No.

That’s something else.

Rey’s eyes fly open.

She shoots up, snapping her feet from the table. She concentrates on her core, that warmth stretching out and into her limbs. She focuses for a moment, makes sure she’s not fooling herself with wishful thinking.

Soon, her lips turn up.

She takes a deep breath, basking in the unmistakable. 

She scoots to the edge of the lounge, searching, impatient for the sight of him. She looks left, then right.

Suddenly, the room is full of him, his feelings washing over her, excitement and eagerness intensifying her own.  She snaps to the technical station to find him standing in front of it.

His eyes are on her, a smile on his lips.

She stands, turning to face him. The moment she does, his eyes widen.

At first, she knits her eyebrows, confused.

Then she remembers.

Oh right. She’s still wearing that stupid dress.

“ _Don’t_ say anything.” She lifts a finger.

“I…” He turns his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He steps forward, scanning her body.

She shakes her head, her cheeks growing warm.

He moves towards her, and she puts a hand on her hip, trying to catch his eye.

But he’s still looking down.

“It’s not like I would _choose_ something like this.” She gestures to herself. “I had to accept my host’s hospitality, no matter how self-serving.”

“Uh huh.” He halts, staring down the front of her dress.

Her cheeks are on fire now. She tries not to smile, but the effort does nothing except make her face hurt.

“It’s not like I have any _use_ for it. I’ll probably get rid of it after tonight.”

“No, no.” He slips a hand behind her waist. “I think you should keep it.” He descends, pulling her close.

She can’t stop smiling as his lips connect with hers. He grips her tightly, an arm around her back, a hand cupping the nape of her neck. She brushes away a lock of his hair, melting into him. They build heat quickly, their mouths opening into each other, his hands searching, moving along the curves of her body.

Suddenly, he pulls back and before she realizes his intention, she’s off her feet and he’s striding out of the lounge with her in his arms.

“Whoa.” She clings to him. “Ben, do you even know where you’re going?”

“Please.” He grunts. “I know this ship like the back of my hand.”

“Um…” She glances at the bunks as they pass. “It’s kind of a mess back here.”

“Well then.” He follows the curve of the hall. “You’re maintaining the tradition of keeping this place a shithole.” He stops in front of the captain’s quarter’s, pressing the panel with an elbow. “Is there still Wookie hair on everything?”

“Not as much as there used to be.” She looks around the room as he enters. “But there’s a lot of Porg feathers in the circuits.”

He knits his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything, heading straight for the bed.

Rey glances around self-consciously, eyeing the twisted sheets, the dirty clothes flung every which-a-ways.

But Ben doesn’t seem to notice. He throws her on the bed, then crawls on top of her, pulling her with him as he moves back. He has that hungry look as he pins both her arms, capturing her lips with his. For a moment, she just surrenders, melting into this feeling of being wanted _so badly_. He slides a hand down her arm to her chest, stopping at the bosom, feeling warm flesh covered by thin fabric.

She weaves her fingers through his hair, wrapping a leg around him, the slit of her dress falling open. He moves his hand over curves of her body, down to her hip, then her bare thigh. He grips the skin just under her backside, grinding against her.

She grips dark locks of his hair as he takes her hungrily, again and again, his hand sliding down the back of her thigh then up again. His lips start to travel, moving along the curve of her jaw to her neck, then her chest.

“You should definitely…” He kisses the tops of her breasts. “ _Definitely_ …” He runs his hand over sheer fabric hugging her torso. “Keep this dress.”

Rey smiles, lifting her head.

“I guess it’s not so bad.”

He shoots forward, pinning her arms.

“It’s _sinful_ ,” he whispers in her ear. “You’re a damn hazard. Just _the sight_ of you could cause a galactic incident.”

“I suppose I should stay here, then. Keep from causing trouble.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere.” He pulls back, shaking his head. “I have you right where I want you.” He presses her forearms to the mattress.

She juts her chin up as if to challenge this, but doesn’t struggle. They both know she’s right where she wants to be.

For a moment, he just stares at her, eyes softening. He moves a hand to her cheek, brushing aside a strand of her hair.

“I miss you.” He caresses her skin. “It feels like it’s been forever.”

She stifles a laugh.

“You _literally_ saw me two days ago.”

“That long?” He tilts his head.

She giggles.

His lips turn up as he descends.

“I need to schedule more invasions.” He kisses soft skin next to her ear. “Get you on the shuttle more often.”

“Please don’t.” She widens her eyes. “I can barely keep up as it is.”

He just grunts.

“By the way…” She sits up a little, wriggling her arm free.

He releases it, pulling back.

“I debriefed the team after we left, and guess what?”

“What?”

“Not a _single person_ saw one of the troopers abuse the rescues.” She smiles, propping on her elbows.

“Good.” He nods, tracing the curve of her waist.

“It was a _huge_ improvement from Kaddak. What did you do?”

“Made a new rule.” He shrugs. “You get what you give.”

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” he says absently, eyes drifting over her body. “If a trooper hurts one of slaves, he gets the exact same thing done to him, with the punishment doled out by me.” He descends, kissing her neck.

“That’s… a bit extreme.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Hm.” She narrows her eyes.

“Rey.” He pulls up. “I don’t want to talk about Llanic. I want to talk about this dress.” He grips her hip, scanning her body. “And how you need more like it.”

“Yes,” she says dryly. “Because I have so many occasions to wear a dress.”

“Is this not an occasion?”

“I suppose it is.” She brushes his hair back, smiling.

“Good.” He grips the flesh under her thigh. “Then, let’s enjoy it.” He captures her lips, pulling her up the bed. 

Suddenly, she hisses, a sharp pain at her back.

“What’s wrong?” He pulls away.

“Uh…” She lifts her shoulder, reaching behind it. She pulls one of Daja’s hair pins from the sheets. “Nothing.” She tosses the pin from the bed, then looks at Ben. “Now, where were we?” She wraps her arms around him.

But she immediately jerks back.

“Oh!” She moves her palms to his chest. “Before I forget, I need to ask you something.”

“ _Right now?_ ” He groans. “Can’t it wait?”

“If I don’t ask now, I won’t remember later.”

He rolls his eyes, descending to kiss her neckline.

“Come on,” she whines. “It’s just a quick, simple question.”

“Rey.” His lips move down. “I’m busy.”

She shakes her head but can’t help smiling.

“ _Ben_ …” She runs her fingers through his hair then grips a chunk of it, pulling up.

He sighs, shifting forward.

“Fine.” He plants a forearm on the mattress, hovering over her. “What’s your question?”

She takes a breath.

“How…?” She purses her lips. “Can you tell if someone’s Force-sensitive?”

“Rey...” He twitches. “That is _not_ a simple question.”

“Then, just give me the short answer.”

“I…” His eyes flit up. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. There are varying degrees of Force-sensitivity, and it’s more prevalent in some races than others.”

“But…” She sits up a little. “Is there something unique about Force-sensitives, like a kind of mark or a sign?”

“Yes,” he deadpans. “They all have halos.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m serious, Ben. Is there not some way to tell a Force-sensitive when you see one, something about their manner, their nature, or a feeling of some sort, like a particular energy?”

“Sure,” he says dryly. “They carry the sense of the universe about them yet bask in their unimportance. Happy now?” He descends.

But Rey pushes him away, flying upright.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Just some stupid limerick.” He puts a hand on her shoulder, pushing her to the mattress.

But she grabs his wrist, flinging him from her and scooting to the edge of the bed.

“Rey…?”

She hops up and heads for the door.

“Rey…?”

She presses the panel, then walks into the hall.

“Rey, where are you going?”   

She ignores him, charging to the lounge. She moves quickly, straight past the table to the technical station. She crouches in front of it, sliding a drawer open.

“Rey!” Ben calls from the hall, footsteps approaching. “What’s going on?”

She reaches into the drawer, scooping up what she’s come for in a single motion. She rises, turning around.

Ben enters the lounge, looking confused.  

“Rey…?”

She doesn’t answer, just charges straight to the table, dropping her load on top of it.

He tilts his head, suddenly _very_ curious.

“What’s this?” He reaches for the musty stack of books.

“ _These_ …” She places a hand on top of them. “Are the Jedi texts. And what you just said is in one of them.”

“ _What!?_ ” He instantly sits down, sliding across the seat. He stares at the books, transfixed. “Rey…” He reaches for the stack but seems hesitant to touch it. “Where did you get these?” He places his hands carefully on either side.

“Uh…” She shifts a little. “I borrowed them from the Jedi temple on Ahch-To.”

He looks up, narrowing his eyes.

“Fine.” She puts a hand on her hip. “I stole them. It’s not like Skywalker was doing anything with them.”

He grunts, sliding the texts towards him. He has that look in his eyes now, a boyish excitement like someone just gave him a new toy.

“These…” He places a hand on the stack. “Are _extremely_ rare documents.” He removes the book at the top, placing it on the table. “Where have you been keeping them?”

“Just…” She gestures to the technical station. “In that drawer over there.”

He snaps up.

“You’re _kidding_ ,” he spits. “Rey, that _is not_ the proper way to store documents like these. They’re delicate. You should give them to the First Order.”

“Oh, yeah _?_ ” She crosses her arms. “So, you can what? Burn them?”

“ _No_.” He jerks back. “So, we can _preserve_ them, maintain them properly.”

“But, why?” She knits her eyebrows. “I thought you hated the Jedi, wanted to wipe all evidence of their existence from the galaxy?”

“That....” He twitches. “Was Snoke. He’s the one who hated the Jedi. I…” His jaw tightens. “I just…” He stares that the books, tense and rigid. “I just hated Skywalker.”

Rey softens, uncrossing her arms.

“But he’s dead now.” He shakes his head. “And I don’t see any reason not to study the Jedi, if only to learn from their mistakes.” He slips a finger under the cover of the book, opening it.

“Well, good luck.” She turns her head. “Those texts are complete nonsense.”

  

“Yeah?” He looks up. “How so?”

She walks to the other side of the table, taking a seat on the lounge.

“For one…” She sidles next to him. “They’re all written in different languages, some too old to translate.”

“First Order archives could help with that.”

“And for two…” She ignores him, extending a hand to the book.  “What I _have_ been able to translate is just…” She turns a page, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know. I thought they would have instructions of some sort, like how to do things through the Force, but instead it’s like…” She flits her head. “Poetry or something.”

He grunts like he’s not surprised.

“For example, that passage you just quoted…” She reaches for the brown book in the middle of the stack.

He hastily removes the ones on top of it, setting them to the side.

She starts rifling through the pages, searching. She feels Ben’s eyes on her, senses him growing anxious.

“Hey, Rey…” He looks over nervously. “Careful with those pages.”

She sighs.

She withdraws her hand, straightening, then sticks out an index finger, barely touching the edge of the page as she turns it _very_ slowly. She goes like this from page to page, taking several seconds to lift each one, then let it fall to the other side.

He’s not bothered by this. In fact, he’s seems perfectly fine with it.

She shakes her head, picking up her pace.

“Here.” She stops when she gets to the right page. “This is the full passage. I translated it a little differently from the way you said it, but it’s the same idea.”

He leans in.  

“It’s something like…” She points at the page. “A master is forever a student. A leader is forever a follower. To be one with the Force is to accept its contradictions, to hold the universe in your hands yet revel in your nothingness.”

Ben furrows his eyebrows.

“See?” She sits back. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, Rey.” He shrugs. “I’m no Jedi.”

“But you heard that phrase or something like it _somewhere_.” She widens her eyes. “Where did you hear it? What was the context?”

He flinches, turning away.

“It’s…” He stares down. “Something a friend of Skywalker’s used to say.”

“What friend?” She perks up.

He shifts uncomfortably. She feels his heart sink to his stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, one she senses in him often…

Shame.

“Just…” He takes a breath. “Someone who’s not around anymore.  He wasn’t even Force-sensitive, but worshipped the Jedi, always spouting their philosophy.” 

Rey observes silently, her hands in her lap. Part of her wants to press him, find out more about this man and why he quoted this particular line.

But she decides against it, her heart heavy with the weight of his guilt.

“Well, what about this one.” She reaches for the book, flipping a couple of pages. She stops, pointing to a passage. “This one’s strange. I translated it like this.” She clears her throat. “All rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is never full. All trees grow, yet they never reach the sky. The wind is everywhere, yet can never be caught. To know wisdom is to accept these things and ponder them in your heart.”

“So…” She leans against the lounge. “What’s that? What does it mean?”

Ben’s lips twist wryly.

“It means whoever wrote it spent too much time in practiced solitude in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’m serious, Ben.” She rolls her head against the seat. “You trained as a Jedi. Surely, you can tell me _something_.”

“I can tell you one thing.” He sits up. “The author of that passage _intended_ for it to be obscure, to be something the reader would have to reflect on and figure out.”

“But _why?_ ” She knits her eyebrows. “Isn’t the whole point of recording these things to preserve Jedi knowledge and pass it on? Wouldn’t the author _want_ to be as clear and straightforward as possible?”

He snorts.

“You don’t know the Jedi.” He shakes his head. “They were _never_ clear or straightforward. They spoke in riddles, almost like a code.”

“A code?”

“Yes.” He reaches for the open book, sliding it to him. “For the initiated, something only they can understand.”

“You mean other Jedi?”

He nods, scanning the page.

“The Jedi were very protective of their knowledge.” He turns carefully to the next one. “They were quite exclusive, especially in their later years.”

“What does that mean?”

“It _means_ …” He glances at her. “They were careful about who they accepted into their little club. Certain undesirables were kept out.”

“Like dark siders?”

“Or anyone they thought would be susceptible to it.” He turns another page. “Slaves, for example.”

“ _What!?_ ” She shoots up. “ _Why?_ ”

“They were thought to be particularly vulnerable to fear and anger. The Jedi would accept them if they were very young, but anyone who was old enough to remember being captive…” He tsks, turning his head.  

“But…” Rey sputters. “It’s not their fault they were treated so badly. If anyone deserved a second chance, an opportunity to get away from it all, it would be them.”

“I didn’t say I _agreed_ with it, Rey.” His eyes are still on the book. “I just said it’s what they did.”

She pushes out an exhale, crossing her arms.

“They would’ve turned you away too, you know.”

She snaps to him.

“They didn’t train Force-sensitives after a certain age.” He turns a page. “Maybe if you’d been found as a young child…”

She turns away, twitching. She leans against the lounge, eyebrows furrowed.

Ben grazes through the text, stopping every so often to examine a passage. 

Rey stares ahead, lost in her own mind, consumed by a prickly feeling under her skin.

She sighs, uncrossing her arms.

“What?” He glances at her.

“It’s just…” She sits up, eyeing the books. “The more I learn about the Jedi…” She scrunches her face. “The more I don’t like them.”

“Yes, well…” He flips a page. “They’re gone now, victims of their own hubris. All that’s left are remnants.” He pats the book. “Not unlike the Sith.”

She tilts her head.

“Were the Sith like the Jedi, exclusive, turning away slaves and such?”

“The Sith were even _more_ exclusive.” He widens his eyes. “For the longest time, only two of them were allowed to exist at once, the master and the apprentice.”

She raises her eyebrows.

He keeps his focus on the book, hovering over a passage.

She leans against the lounge, crossing her legs and pulling the fabric of her dress over her thigh. She rolls her head back, staring at the ceiling.

For a minute, they’re both silent, him studying the book, her staring into space.

“You know…” She sits up. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said in the kyber cave.”

“Oh yeah?” He turns a page. “Which part?” 

“Your interpretation of the vision, how you think we’re supposed to build a new understanding of the Force.”

He snaps up, giving her his full attention.

“I’ve been thinking about how we could do that.” She shifts to face him. “Create something new, something different from the Sith or the Jedi.”

“Like a new order?”

“Yes.” She nods. “But only after we explore.”

“What do you mean by _explore_?”

“Like…” She purses her lips. “Open a school? For Force-sensitives? Somewhere we can learn and grow and figure out what we want to be.”

“Hm.” He looks down. “Another academy, huh?”

“More like a haven.” She rests her forearms on the table. “A safe place without expectations or judgement where people like us can connect and learn from each other.” 

He stares down, eyebrows furrowed. She senses his wariness.

“It wouldn’t be anything like Skywalker’s academy.” She shakes her head. “Not if we don’t want it to be. _We’ll_ be in charge, the ones who make the rules.”   

“That could be…” His lips turn up. “Interesting.”

“And _fun_.”

He looks at her, a glint in his eye.

“Imagine it, Ben.” She scoots towards him. “A school run by _us_ , a place where we can experiment, _unrestrained_ , do all the things the Sith and Jedi never did.”

He leans against the lounge, eyes flickering.

“We could build something _completely_ different.” She leans in. “No exclusivity, no obscure texts—”

“No trials.” He sits up. “No murderous masters.”

“And slaves would be _welcomed_.” She widens her eyes. “Encouraged even.”

“The Knights could be part of it, maybe.” He brings a hand to his jaw. “I could re-train them.”

“Yes!” She brightens. “You could show them a new way, no dark side—”

“No light side.”

“Just the Force.”

He drops his hand, nodding.

“I like the sound of that.”

For a moment, he stares ahead, black eyes alive, visions of the future dancing across them. Then, he glances at her.

She squints with a glimmer.

He smiles, lifting a hand to her face and leaning in.

They connect softly.

“You know,” he murmurs, tracing her jaw. “If we were to do this, we’d have to come together, live at the school.”

“Well, of course.” Her lips graze his. “We’d be running things, after all.” She tucks a lock of hair behind his ear.

“We should keep it on the Supremacy, then.”

“Or _not_.” She pulls back, shooting him a look.

He sighs, withdrawing.

“We’ll…” He shifts away. “Have to work out the details.” He sits back. “It’s not like we’ll be doing this anytime soon.” He crosses his arms, staring down.

Rey turns forward, bringing her hands to her lap.

For a minute, they sit in silence.  

“Do you…?” She bows, closing her eyes. “Ever wish there was some way to jump through time, lightspeed to the part where we’ve finally figured everything out?”

“ _All the time_.” He articulates each word. 

“Me too.” She takes a breath. “I think about it more and more, imagining the future, what it might look like.” She opens her eyes. “It’s so much better than thinking about the present.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” he mutters.  

She purses her lips.

“How have things been for you, lately?” She nudges him. “With… Hux and everything?”

His jaw hardens.

“Same bullshit.”

“So, things aren’t getting any worse?”

“Rey.” He twitches, uncrossing his arms. “I don’t want to talk about this. I have to think about it enough as it is.”   

She nods, looking down. She senses him soften.

“What about you?”

She looks up.

“Are you more on top of things now, getting your network off the ground?”  

“Not exactly.” She stiffens.

He slides the open book in front of him to the side.

“Running into trouble?” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“Yes.” She looks down.

“Like what?”

“Like…” She sighs. “A couple of weeks ago, a merchant who was _central_ to the escape route came to work to find her business burned to the ground.”

His eyebrows shoot up.

“By a slaver?”

“Unconfirmed.” She crosses her arms. “But almost certainly, yes.”

“Can you find someone to replace her?” 

“That’s why we’re here.” She sits up. “Getting a safe house on Canto Bight would patch the gap, but…” She shakes her head. “Even if we did, it’s only a matter of time before it happens again, before someone else loses _everything_ because they’re helping us.” She sighs. “Then all the volunteers we’ve worked so hard to recruit will back out and the whole network will fall apart.” She droops.  

He watches silently. For a minute, he says nothing, just shares in her emotions, a heavy, defeated feeling.

But soon, she senses a shift.

She looks up.

His eyes are narrowed, something brewing in them.

“Have you…?” He purses his lips. “Considered a more aggressive strategy?”

She knits her eyebrows.

“I mean…” He straightens. “So far, your whole project has been about rescues, getting slaves away from their masters.”  

“Uh… yeah.” She shrugs. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

“Well, have you thought about coming at it a different way?”

“What way?”

“Like instead of rescuing slaves, maybe you should go after the slavers.”  

“You mean attack them?” She jerks back.

“ _Exactly_.” There’s a gleam in his eyes. “They’re the root of the problem, aren’t they?”

She looks down.

“And _they’re_ the ones who drew first blood, going after your allies. Maybe you should show them you don’t take that sort of thing lightly.”

“That…” She presses her lips together. “Could be a dangerous game. Violence invites violence, and I don’t want to start a war.”

“You don’t have to kill anyone.” He shakes his head. “You just have to hit them where it hurts.”

She glances up.

“Their _pockets_.” He leans in.

“Maybe…” She looks away, staring into space.

“It’s just an idea.” He slides his forearms from the table. “It’s your project, your call.”

She shifts in her seat, thinking. Soon, her eyes drift, scanning the Jedi texts strewn across the table.

“You could be right.” She leans over, reaching for an open book. “Maybe it’s time to take a different tact.” She slides it towards her, studying the yellowed pages. “Let old things die.” She snaps it closed.

“Don’t give up on these just yet.” He points to the texts. “There’s centuries of philosophy in here.” He taps the stack in front of him. “You never know what you might find.”

“Look at you…” She squints teasingly. “Defending the Jedi.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing the stack away.

She turns, scooting to the edge of the lounge.

“I think I’ll just rely on my instincts for now.” She rises. “I’ve learned a lot more doing that than I ever did from one of these.” She starts gathering the books.

“You’re not putting them back in that drawer, are you?” He shoots forward.

“Where else am I supposed to put them?”

“Don’t you have a safe box or something?” He waves around the ship. “Something air tight, free of contaminates?”

“ _No_.” Her eyes flit up. “Why would I have something like that?”

“For storing valuables, like _ancient_ , _irreplaceable_ documents.”

She sighs.

“Sorry.” She picks up the books. “No safe boxes here. But if it makes you happy, I’ll put them in one of the secret compartments.”

“What would make me happy is getting them _off_ this ship and into an archive.”

She rolls her eyes, turning to the main hall.

“I’m serious, Rey.” He calls as she walks away. “Those are delicate materials. They need to be kept safe, not shoved in a cargo hold and carted all over the damn galaxy.”

“Uh huh.” She shifts the books into the crook of her arm, crouching.

“Don’t just throw them in there. Put them in a container or something.”

“Of course.” She lifts part of the floor and drops the books in the opening.

“Do you have _any idea_ what’s been in those compartments?” She hears him scoot across the seat. “I once opened one to find it full of paddy frogs, slimy, writhing—”

“ _Ben!_ ” She groans, rising. She walks back into the lounge to find him perched on the edge of the seat, arms crossed.

“That was fast.” He narrows his eyes.

“Yes, well…” She puts a hand on her hip. “Those compartments are practically empty.”

He glares at her.

“You do know how disgusting this ship is, don’t you?” He dips his chin. “Half the galaxy’s scum tracked their grime _all over it_. No amount of _cleaning_ can get rid of all the—”

“You know what I think?” She interrupts, striding towards him.

“What?” He twitches.

She stops just in front of him.

“I think…” She lifts a knee, sliding it across the seat beside him.

He glances at her bare thigh peeking through the slit of her dress.

“That you need a more positive association with this ship.”

“Is that right?” He looks up.

“That’s right.” She crawls on top of him.

He widens his eyes, slipping his hands around her hips as she straddles him.

“What did you have mind?” He grips her flesh.

She just smiles, leaning in.

Her lips connect with his, soft and playful. She runs her fingers through his hair, squeezing gently with her thighs.

He pulls her in at the hips, his breath changing quickly, an even stream transforming to staccato exhales. Their blood rises, warm bodies pressed close, every subtle movement stoking that inner flame, the need to feel more, taste more.

They open their mouths into each other, their kisses growing hotter, hungrier. He slides a hand down her bare thigh then back up, slipping under the fabric of her dress.

Suddenly, he swings around, gripping her flesh and pulling down, pressing her groin to his. Her back is to the table now, the end of it just a few inches away. She scoots into him, gripping his hair as she kisses him passionately.

He pulls away, bringing his lips to her ear.

“Come to bed with me,” he whispers. 

She catches her breath, sliding her palms to his chest.

“No.” She pushes back, shaking her head.

He knits his eyebrows.

She crawls off of him and over the seat, then rises. She steps back from the lounge, lifting her dress at the slit and slipping a thumb under the top of her underwear. She gives him a sly look as she pulls down, bending to take the fabric over her knees. She straightens, kicking her underwear to the side.

He watches, eyebrows raised.

She steps forward, crawling over the seat and back on top of him.

“I want you right here.” She pulls the slit of her dress open, casting the fabric behind her.

He puts both hands on her thighs, eyes glued to her body as he slides to the crease at her hips.

She traces his jaw with the backs of her fingers, stopping at the chin and tilting up.

Their eyes lock, his dark and burning, reflecting the same desire she feels coursing through her.

She leans in for a kiss, her lips lingering.

Then she pulls away, eyes fixed on his as she places a palm on his shoulder. She reaches down with the other, pulling up his overcoat. She can practically _feel_ his blood quicken as she fumbles with his pants, undoing one button, then another, then another.  

Finally, she slips a hand under the fabric, wrapping around his flesh, hard and throbbing. She lifts up, her knees on the seat, as she pulls him out slowly.  

He catches his breath, a blast of desire ripping through him and right into her.

She scoots in a little, then descends, sliding him into her.

He groans as she settles on top of him, his hands under her dress, gripping bare flesh at her hips.

For a moment, she doesn’t move, just watches him watch her, eyes feasting on sheer fabric hugging her torso. She waits until he looks up before she begins to rock her hips, gently at first. She strokes his hair back, eyes on his, feeling him inside her.

His lips turn up, and they lean in at exactly the same time, connecting softly. She wraps her arms around him as they share gentle kisses, warm and expressive. His hands travel, moving down her thighs then up and over her backside. He grips the flesh, pulling her in, and she picks up her pace, grinding into him.

And just like that, everything starts to fall away, the ship, the crisp air, the tattered cover of the seat at her knees until there’s nothing but their bodies, their breath, their blood.

They become lost in the language of passion, panting and hot, wet kisses, a tangle of limbs and searching hands. They’re consumed in sensations, how much they crave the intimacy, how it seems to enclose them in a secret place, just for them.  

What gift this is, a rare and precious thing, to lose oneself in another person. In all her years of wondering what it would feel like to be this close to someone, Rey never imagined this. 

How could she? How could she have known that in this moment she wouldn’t just be Rey but something more, a blending of flesh and love and tenderness, two life forces fusing into one?

Suddenly, she pulls back, moving a hand to his cheek. His eyes search hers, growing gentle as he reads her.

She leans in, wrapping her arms around him, her lips at his ear. 

“I love you.”

She closes her eyes as she whispers the words.

“I love you.” He nuzzles her neck.

She squeezes her eyes shut, surrendering to every sensation, every nuance of closeness, emotional and physical.

Finally, she pulls back, sliding her palms to his chest. For a moment, she just gazes at him.

Then, she pushes him against the seat, gripping his shoulders as she bucks her hips, feeling him deep inside her. His eyes ignite, black flames blazing as he grabs her backside and pulls, moving with the rhythm as she thrusts back and forth. She leans over him, grinding harder, faster, the burning at her groin starting to grow, reaching up and out through her limbs.

She feels slick and wet and he’s throbbing inside her, his pleasure rising to that wild, frenzied height. This is her favorite part, the part where they both start to lose control, their bodies seeming to move of their own accord. She closes her eyes, moaning as her thrusts become long and deep, her body like a snake, rippling in smooth, hard motions.

He taps her hip a couple times, a silent signal to slow down. He’s close to the edge, and he doesn’t want to go over without her.

It’s a benefit of the bond, they’ve discovered, the ability to experience the other’s pleasure, to know when the other is nearing the finish. It makes it easy to go there together, intensifying the rush, two explosions ripping through them at once.

Rey pushes up, bobbing gently, bringing her hand over his at her hip. He’s closing his eyes now, concentrating on her, trying to keep himself at bay. She moves on top of him, up and down in an even rhythm. Soon, she closes her own eyes, losing herself in sensation, warmth and wet and blood pulsing inside her.

She starts to lose control again, gripping the top of the seat as she leans over him, her hips thrusting, bringing him deeper. She whines, starting to tremble, her body on the verge, and she feels him race through that upward climb, past the point of no return.

He shoots upright, gripping her backside and pulling in as he groans, exploding in pleasure. She explodes with him, thighs shaking as she tightens, flames bursting through her body. She wraps her arms around him as they peak then taper off, sensitive and overwrought.

He slides his hands down her thighs, his breath heavy.

She pulls back, panting, her forearms on his shoulders. His eyes are still closed when he slips a hand behind her waist, pulling her in. She melts into his body, wrapping her arms around him. 

For a minute, they stay just like this, her nuzzling his neck, him breathing in the scent of her hair. They soak in these final moments, pure intimacy where nothing exists except them.

She takes a deep breath before pulling away. He finally opens his eyes, catching hers, and both their lips turn up in knowing smiles, like a shared secret.

For a second, they just gaze at one another.

Then he circles her waist, starting to pull up.

“Wait!” She taps his shoulder.

He stops, knitting his eyebrows.

“Look around.” She lifts a finger, making a circular motion.

He glances at the room.

“What?”

“From now on…” She tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “Whenever you think about this ship, I want you to remember _this_ moment.”

He instantly rolls his eyes.

She bobs on top of him, grinning.

“Alright.” He grabs her waist. “Time to get off.”

She lifts up slowly, feeling him slip from inside her. She crawls over the seat and rises.

“You know…” She adjusts the fabric of her dress. “I can’t help but picture it sometimes.”

“Picture what?”

“You on this ship. _Little Ben_.” She chuckles.

He fumbles with his pants behind her.

“You must have spent a lot of time here.” She steps to the technical station. “As a child.” She grazes the surface with her fingertips. “It wasn’t all bad, was it?” 

She cringes, catching herself the moment the words leave her mouth.

He darkens, that terrible weight crushing down on him.

She closes her eyes, sinking.

 _So stupid_.

Why did she even ask? _Of course,_ he has good memories here. She’s seen one of them.

But it’s tainted now. They’re all tainted…

She presses her lips together. She can’t help but wonder if he’s still having those nightmares…

She shakes her head, banishing the thought.

“I actually like that this ship is old.” She turns, changing the subject.

He’s sitting back on the lounge, arms crossed. His eyes are on the table and not her.

“All the marks and scratches and modifications…” She looks at the piping running along the walls and into the ceiling. “It gives the ship character.”

He grunts.

“There are plenty of ways to give a place character other than making a mess.”

“But I like the mess.”

“You _would_.” He looks up teasingly.

“Oh yeah?” She walks towards him. “Why is that?”

“Because _you’re_ a mess.”

She shrugs.

“I’ve been told.” She takes a seat beside him. “But it gives me character.” She winks.

He shakes his head.

She scoots closer, leaning in. She lifts a hand to his cheek as they connect.

“You know you love it.” Her lips graze his.

“I love _you_.” He brushes aside a strand of her hair. “ _Not_ your mess.”

 “Yes, but the mess is part of me,” she murmurs. “It’s the wonderful thing about love. It tricks you into loving things you otherwise wouldn’t.”

He doesn’t respond, just curls his fingers behind her neck as he presses his lips to hers, warm and gentle. They start to lose themselves, one kiss blending into the next, then the next… 

Suddenly, Rey snaps back.

“What?” He withdraws.

A second later, his face falls.

He senses her sadness, knows what it means.

She’s getting better at recognizing it, what it feels like just before the bond ends. It’s a kind of severing, like a piece of her just broke off and started to drift away.

Her throat tightens as she stares at him, burning the memory of this moment into her mind. Both their hearts drop, filling with an ache they’ve come to know so well.

She gives him a reassuring smile.

“I’ll see you.” She lifts a hand to his face.

But he’s gone by the time she gets there.

She drops her hand, staring at the space where he used to be. She leans forward, placing a palm on the seat, feeling traces of his warmth.

Then she sighs, closing her eyes.

She turns, sitting back against the lounge, her arms falling limply at her side. She hangs her head.

But the next instant, she snaps up.

She’s learned how to deal with this, the loneliness that always follows the bond. Instead of wallowing in it, she reflects, remembers what happened, everything they said, everything they experienced.

She starts at the beginning, when she first felt his presence. What was it she was thinking about…?

That’s right.

She was thinking about Leia, her warning about the road ahead, how she just wanted to shove it all to the side and focus on Ben, how close they’re becoming.

Her lips turn up as she remembers his eyes widening when he saw her, the way he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. She remembers the tangled passion, Daja’s pin at her back, asking him how to tell if someone’s Force-sensitive.

She runs through all of it in her mind, every detail, every nuance, every touch, until she gets to the very end, those final seconds, lost in one another on the lounge seat.

Then, she compares the end to the beginning, what she was thinking about when she felt the bond, what they were doing when it closed.

“Hm.” She shifts forward. She sits still for a minute.

Then she drums her fingers on the table.

She considers the future, where she and Ben are headed, what they’ll have to get through on the way. Tough times are coming… _very_ tough…

But instead of sinking, she smiles.

She sidles to the edge of the seat, then rises, walking to the side of the room. She stoops down, picking up her underwear and turning to stroll to the captain’s quarters.

There’s still a smile on her lips when she gets there. She presses the panel, walking in and casting her underwear on a dirty pile of clothes. She continues to the closet, crouching in front of it and pulling out a drawer.

She rifles through it, only half paying attention. Her mind is still on the bond, on Ben and their future.

Things will get hard. They always do.

But no matter how bad it gets, they’ll always have what they experienced tonight, their connection, a haven they can escape into and remember why it’s all worth it.

Maybe that’s why the bond brought them together this time. Maybe it was trying to show them how they’ll survive the road ahead, how they’ll make it through all the challenges and the headaches.

She grabs a pair of clean underwear and begins pulling them on.

Yes, that must be it.

She smooths her dress, then turns, walking to the door. She kicks aside Daja’s jacket on the way, glancing around.

They really should clean up in here… 

She presses the panel, striding into the hall and back to the lounge, her mind drifting to Daja and Devaronian.

She wrinkles her nose.

 _Poor thing_. She can’t _believe_ Daja’s as good as she is at flirting with that horrible man.

She takes a seat by the table, crossing her arms and leaning back.

And it’ll all be for nothing, probably. Even if he agrees to help them tonight, he’ll back out _the moment_ he realizes what’s at risk, everything he could lose.

She sucks in a breath.

_What a waste._

A waste of their time, a waste of their energy…

She looks down, hardening. She stares at the floor for a minute, tense and rigid.

Then she narrows her eyes.

Suddenly, she shoots up, searching for her boots.

 _Ah!_ There’s one.

She retrieves it along with her socks, then looks for the other. She finds it quickly, returning to her seat to pull her socks on, then her boots.

She tightens the laces, then rises, striding to her pouch. She scoops it up in a single motion, heading for the exit. She presses a panel and the ship creaks open, the ramp descending slowly. She starts down it before it touches the ground, hopping off as she scrounges through her pouch.

She presses the remote to close the ship, not bothering to look back as she charges between the rows of luxury liners. She brings the strap of her pouch overhead, eyes forward, mind fixed on her destination.

She needs to get Daja out of there. There’s no reason for her to suffer for nothing…

They can’t patch up the escape route until they deal with the real problem first.

 _The slavers_.   

Ben’s right. She needs to send them a message, show them they’re not the only ones who can retaliate.

They went after one of her allies. Now she’s going after _them_.

She picks up her pace, moving quickly down the landing deck. She charges through the exit, turning sharply, so focused on the casino she doesn’t notice the boy just below.

She runs right into him and he falls back, hands flying out to catch himself.

“I’m sorry!” She gasps, crouching.

He pushes up, a pang of fear shooting through him.

“It’s ok.” She reaches for him, but he steps back, eyes wide.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” She drops her hand.

He continues back, then swings around, running away.

“Wait!” She rises.

The boy halts, stiffening.

Rey walks forward.

“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?”

He looks up, guarded.

“You were with the fathiers when we came to visit today, weren’t you?” She stops beside him.

He just stares.

“That’s a big job, taking care of animals like that.”

He squints, confused, like he’s trying to read her.

Soon, he softens.

Rey smiles, kneeling before him.

“What’s your name?”

His eyes flicker. Now that he’s in front of her, she can see him better, chubby cheeks, messy brown hair peeking out from a worn cap. He can’t be a day older than ten…

He looks down, shuffling his feet.

“Boy,” he finally answers.

“Boy?” She jerks back. “That’s your name?”

He shrugs.

“We’re all boy. Or girl.”

Rey sinks, her heart filling with a mixture of compassion and anger.

 _They can’t even bother to give them_ _names…?_

The boy’s regarding her curiously now, brown eyes soft.

“Have you…?” She purses her lips. “Ever heard of Luke Skywalker?”

He immediately brightens.

“Everyone knows Luke Skywalker.”

She lets out a laugh.

“I guess they do, don’t they?” She studies the boy. “Well…” She leans in. “You look more like a Luke to me.”

He perks up, a smile tugging his lips. He’s clearly pleased by this…

“You…” She looks down. “You’re a slave, aren’t you?” She glances up.

His face falls. He nods once.

Her throat tightens. She lifts a hand, extending it tentatively.

The boy flinches but doesn’t back away.

She touches his cheek, brushing away a bit of dirt.

“Will you do me a favor?”

He narrows his eyes.

“Will you remember me, remember what I look like?” 

He looks confused but nods.

“Good.” She smiles. “Because you’re going to see me again.” She keeps her eyes fixed on his. “And when you do, you won’t be a slave anymore.”

He jerks back, his confusion deepening.

But Rey feels something else too, something lurking beneath the surface…

Hope.

She stares at him, unflinching, surging with resolve.

And that spark of hope in the boy’s chest grows a little stronger.

Her lips turn up.

She winks at him. Then, she rises.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She extends a hand.

He takes it.

“I’ll look forward to meeting you again.” She shakes once, then releases. “In the meantime…” She leans down. “Never stop hoping, ok?”

He stares up, eyes wide, not sure what to make of this.

She reaches for his shoulder, squeezing gently. Then she straightens, stepping around the boy and heading to the stairs leading to the casino.

“See you around, Luke,” she calls back, tossing him a glance over her shoulder.

He just stands, gaping as she walks away.

She barrels up the stairs, reaching the top with a spring in her step. She glides down the open deck, stars twinkling above, casino guests laughing as they stroll by.

Rey hardly notices them.

She’s too lost in her own mind, planning. Something tells her she’ll be up late tonight… She wants to talk things through with Daja, get some ideas.

She’ll be on board, of course. Daja loves a good fight. So many on her team do…

She runs through a catalogue of faces, the ones who will be best for this sort of thing.

She barrels up another flight of stairs.

Yes, she’ll have no trouble putting together a task force. Good thing, too. She wants to move on this quickly, strike before one of the slavers goes after another ally.

She juts her chin up, striding forward.

The slavers think they’ve got her figured out, backed into a corner.

But she’s about to change the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be uploaded on April 19th. Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, if you have a moment, I’d like to recommend fic to you guys that I’ve absolutely fallen in love with. It’s anerdobsessed’s “Light Rises… and Darkness to Meet It” series. It’s a role-reversal AU where Luke finds Rey as a child on Jakku and recognizes a potential for darkness. He takes her into his academy in the hopes that he can guide her along another path where, of course, she meets Ben who becomes something like a big brother. They form a strong bond over a shared darkness that they both feel ashamed of and hide from everyone except each other. 
> 
> This is an incredibly satisfying slow burn that spends a lot of time with character development and the writer has a gift for world-building and creating believable OC’s. Her Rey and Ben are very reflective of their in-canon versions, and she finds creative ways to weave parts of the canon story into a retelling of their relationship and bond. Also, her descriptions are just beautiful. The scenes are so vivid they could be movies. 
> 
> This is truly the most underrated fic in the fandom and I promise you won’t be disappointed if you take a few days to get lost in her world. Please check it out and leave her some love in the form of kudos or comments! 
> 
> Here is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14596149/chapters/33734106


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben arrive at Resistance headquarters after their escape.

The Falcon creaks open, ramp descending with a mechanical hum.

Finn and Rose scurry down before it touches ground. They hop off, then bolt across the hanger, pausing briefly to glance back.

The shouting gets louder as Rey treks down the ramp, a towering form stomping after her. The two are a blur of screaming and finger pointing, faces red, arms flailing.

Finn and Rose turn to each other, wide-eyed. They start forward at the same time, racing between rows of transports like animals trying to outrun a storm. They’re out of the hanger by the time Rey steps off the ship.

“If you’d just _listened to me_ , we would’ve—”

“If I’d listened to you, _both of us_ would be strapped to interrogation chairs right now!” Ben charges off the ramp.

“You stirred up _the whole damn facility_ , nearly got us _and_ Finn and Rose killed—”

“I saved all our skins. _You’re_ the one who nearly got us killed.”

“ _I had a plan, Ben!_ A _good_ plan, one that didn’t involve blowing up _half the building!_ ”

“Your plan had us moving at half speed and getting stuck in a ventilation system. I made a judgement call.”

Rey scoffs. “You just went with your _instinct_ , which is to whip out _that saber_ of yours and _destroy whatever you set your eyes on!_ ”

“ _First of all_ …” Ben towers over her. “If you think I actually _wanted_ to harm First Order personnel, _think again_. Secondly, _the last thing_ I wanted was to fight with a weapon _that isn’t even mine anymore!_ ”

“ _Ben!_ ” She groans. “ _All_ I did—”

“Was take it apart, change its nature, then put it back together with _a damn tracker in it!_ ”

“I had _no choice_ , _Ben_ ,” she mimics. “I _will not_ apologize for trying to keep you _safe_.”

“ _Hypocrite!_ ” He gets in her face. “You are a childish hypocrite _,_ and what you’ve done is _so much worse_ than what I did.”

“ _WHAT!?_ That is _complete_ —”

“You took _what is mine_ , and you _ruined it!_ ”

“ _I FIXED IT!_ ”

“ _IT WASN’T BROKEN!_ ”

“ _YES_ , _IT WAS!_ ”

He growls, jerking away.

“Just because you _refuse_ to acknowledge an open wound doesn’t mean it’s _not there, Ben_.”

“ _You don’t know what you’re talking about._ ”

“I know _exactly_ what I’m talking about _._ I understand _you_ , and I understand kyber crystals. You _both_ needed this.”

“ _It’s not for you to say what I do and do not need!_ ”

“Ben _…_ ” Rey sags. “When are we going to stop having this argument? When will you just admit that you _need_ to heal _?_ ”

“ _Do not_ tell me _—”_

Suddenly, they both freeze.

They’d been too consumed in the fight to sense her coming, but they sense her now. A door whirs shut at the back of a hanger, footsteps approaching quickly.

Ben goes white.

Then, he bolts to the Falcon.

“ _Ben_.” Rey lunges after him. “Ben, _don’t you dare_.”

He’s nearly to the ramp when Leia jogs around a transport.

“Son?” She slows.

Ben halts.

The hanger falls silent. For a minute, it’s like time stops, no moving, no speaking.

Ben stands by the Falcon, his back to Leia.

Rey’s a few feet away, perfectly still except for her eyes, darting between mother and son.

Leia stands by the transport, her face as white as Ben’s.

The room quakes with emotions, yet by all appearances, the scene is quiet, almost serene. They might as well be stone in a vast, empty hanger.

Leia is the first to move. She steps forward, never taking her eyes off Ben.

Rey catches him gulp, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to dart up the ramp, but he remains still.

Leia proceeds carefully— one step, two steps, three— like one wrong move could scare him away. As she gets closer, Rey notices she’s trembling.

Ben tenses when she steps in front of him, keeping his eyes on the floor.

Leia glances at Rey, almost fearfully, then looks to Ben. “Son…?”

He keeps his head down.

“B-ben…?”

He doesn’t move.

Leia covers her mouth, eyes glistening. “Ben…” She drops her hand. “Please, son. Please look at me.”

No movement.

“Ben…?”

Nothing.

Leia darkens. “ _Boy._ ” She adopts a tone of command. “ _Look at me_.”

Ben swallows.

Then, he drags his eyes up.  

Leia instantly softens. “ _Ben_.” She frames his face. “ _Son_.” She looks him over like she can’t believe he’s real. “You’re… _so big_.”

He stares, dumbstruck.

“ _I’m so happy to see you_.” Tears spill over her cheeks. “I’ve wanted this for _so long_. I’ve imagined it every single day.”

He gapes at her.

“I’ve… I’ve been wanting to tell you…” Her lips tremble. “I’m sorry. I’m _so sorry_. I’m sorry we gave up on you. I’m sorry we weren’t there for you when you needed us. You have _no idea_.”

His eyes tighten.

“And I… I wanted you to know that… I know how much you loved your father.”

He bows his head.

“I know you hate yourself for what you did.”

He squeezes his eyes shut.

“But I don’t want you to. I want you to forgive yourself. And I want you to know that… I forgi—”

“ _No_.” He jerks away. “No.”

“ _Yes_.” Leia grabs him.

“ _No_.”

“ _Yes, son_.” She moves in front of him. “You need to hear this.”

“ _No_.” He keeps shaking his head.

“Oh, Ben…” Leia catches a sob. “Ben, please… _please_ … If you can’t hear the words, just feel it. Feel it like you did when you were little. Do you remember? Do you remember when I’d hold you, and we’d both close our eyes and just feel what was in the other’s heart?”

He scrunches his face.

“Let’s do that now.” She takes him into her arms. He’s stiff, but Leia doesn’t seem to notice. “Feel what’s in my heart, son.”

He gasps.

“Feel how much I forgive you. I forgive you for _all of it_.”

“ _No_ …” He croaks weakly.  

“ _Yes_. I love you, I _forgive you,_ and if your father were here, he’d say the _exact same thing_.”

Rey claps a hand over her mouth. Suddenly, she’s weak, barely able to stand.  

Tears are streaming down Ben’s cheeks. He’s shaking his head, squeezing his eyes tight, and Leia just holds him. He starts to collapse, shoulders hunching until he’s bearing half his weight on his mother.

She staggers, struggling to hold him up.  Rey moves to help, but Leia waves her away.

 “It’s ok.” She grips her son. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“ _I-I_ …” He weeps into her shoulder. “ _I_ - _I’m sorry_. _I’m so sorry._ ”

“I know. I know.”

“H-he… He came to me and I-I…”

“Shhh.” She strokes his hair.

He sobs, leaning more of his weight on her. “I-I don’t… I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“It’s not about deserve, son. It’s about love. And grace.”

He sobs harder. 

“I love you.” Leia holds him tight. “I love you _so much_. And I’ve _missed you_. I’ve missed my boy.”

Rey watches, wide-eyed. Tears stream down her cheeks yet she can’t feel a thing but pain and release and joy, Leia’s blending with Ben’s blending with her own. It’s too much for one body to feel at once.

Without thinking, Rey staggers to the Falcon. She starts up the ramp, stopping briefly to glance back.

Leia and Ben haven’t moved, both too consumed to notice her.

She stumbles into the ship, heading straight for the captain’s quarters. She’s hardly aware of herself as she enters the room and walks to the bed, sinking on to it. The tears still pour, but she’s never felt anything so good. Each one is restorative, like oxygen in the lungs, filling her with so much life she’s overcome with the urge to share it, to seek out everyone who’s ever felt pain or loss and give them this gift, the gift of healing.

She bows her head, playing the scene again and again, Leia holding Ben tight, the way he lost control, collapsing in her arms.

Rey knew he needed this, but she couldn’t conceive of how much until she was _there_ , in the moment, feeling it happen. It’s like that part of him deep inside, the part where he keeps all his pain and self-loathing, cracked wide open, flooding him with everything he refused to face, and Leia absorbed it all, filtering it through her mother’s love and giving it back to him as peace and forgiveness.

Rey takes a deep breath, relishing the joy, what it means for both Leia and Ben. She lifts a hand, wiping her cheeks, then rests her palms on the mattress, smiling so hard her face hurts.

Who knew it was possible to be so happy? Who knew love could feel this way, so purifying? When she was on Jakku, she’d imagine reuniting with her parents all the time, trying to conjure the emotions, but she never came _even close_ to what she just experienced. Thinking back on that life, it’s like she’s remembering a different person, a girl who wanted love _so badly_ but didn’t have the slightest concept of what that meant, all the pain, joy, and responsibility that comes with it.

Rey looks down. Suddenly, she’s not in the Falcon anymore but in Leia’s office, their last conversation playing like a holo in her mind.

A week had passed since Leia ripped into her and Poe in front of Resistance leadership. After that, Rey avoided the command center, banishing herself to the basement to sort inventory from evacuated bases.

When Connix showed up to tell her she’d been summoned, Rey swallowed her shame and followed, entering the command center with a heavy heart. Leia didn’t look up when Rey seated herself across from the desk. She just entered the last note on her datapad, then rose, moving to take a seat by Rey.

Rey kept her head down, braced for another tongue-lashing.  

“So…” Leia began softly. “Tell me… About the tracker.”

Rey looked up, surprised. She was met by gentle eyes, not the General’s but Leia’s, her mentor and confidante.

Rey let out a slow breath.

Then, she told Leia everything. She didn’t hold back, reviewing every harsh word, every point and counterpoint. She didn’t neglect a single detail, even when it became hard to speak. She laid it all out, reliving every moment until she was weak and drained.

Leia listened without interruption, like she always does. Her only reactions were nods or subtle mannerisms, a tilt of the head. After Rey finished, she was silent for a long while.

“Rey…” When she finally spoke, her face was careful. “I’m sorry. My son was wrong to do what he did. He was wrong to deceive you. He was wrong to violate you. He was wrong not to take responsibility for his actions. He was just _wrong_.”

Rey narrowed her eyes, sensing the “but.”

“ _But_ …” Leia drew out the word. “If I could’ve done the same thing to Han, I would’ve done it a thousand times over.”

Rey balked.

Leia sighed, passing a hand over her face. “I… I’m not making excuses for my son. He was _wrong_ to do what he did, and you were _right_ to hold him accountable. He _needs_ that. Trust me, I know.” She patted her chest. “I know deluded that boy can be. Even from the beginning, he was always _convinced_ of his own lies. When he was little, I once came home to find our _entire house_ covered in honeycrusts. _Do you know what he told me?_ ” She leaned in. “He said that an _Ewok did it_. Then, when I punished him, he cried for _days_ at the injustice.”

Rey snorted.

“Ben _needs_ someone to hold him accountable for being honest, with himself and others, but...” Leia hesitated. “There’s another side to what he did, something I want you to understand.”

Rey studied her, struggling to make sense of her emotions, love and regret, heartbreak beneath it all.

“When Ben left us…” Leia looked down. “It was hard. It was hard on me and Han, on our marriage. But the truth is… We were having problems long before then.”

Rey moved her hands to her lap, waiting.

“We…” Leia struggled. “We fought a lot. You already know that, but what you don’t know is what we fought about, the sticking point that came up _again and again_.” She grit her teeth. “He was so restless, always going off on these self-appointed missions, and I’d ask about them. Sometimes he’d answer, and sometimes he’d just say, ‘ _you don’t want to know_.’” She widened her eyes. “That’s it. That’s all the detail I’d get. Then, he’d leave, half the time not coming back when he said he would, and I’d lie awake at night thinking… _what is it that he didn’t want me to know?_ I’d imagine all kinds of things, mostly him dead in the middle of who knows where. I tried to put on a front for Ben, but he knew. _Of course_ , he knew. He felt how worried I was, how _frustrated_. We spent so much of his childhood just waiting, waiting to know for sure whether Han was dead or alive…”

Rey listened, feeling the heaviness in Leia’s heart.

“And the thing I could _never_ get that man to understand, the thing we fought about _again and again_ , is that whenever he did this, whenever he left us to put his life at risk, he wasn’t just risking himself but _our family_.” Leia clenched her heart. “Because he was _part_ of our family. We weren’t whole without him. But he’d always shrug me off, tell me I was worrying too much. ‘ _Trust me_ ,’ he’d say. ‘I’ve gotten out of more scrapes than you’d _believe_ ,’ he’d say. Mr. ‘never tell me the odds,’ and _that_ —” Leia pointed at Rey. “Was the real problem. He’d weasel his way out of every tight spot he got himself into, and the more he did, the more invincible he felt. Why should he worry when he’d lived through hundreds of close-calls? To him a near death experience was just a good story.” 

Rey looked down.  

“Does any of this… sound familiar?”

Rey tucked her chin, but she could feel Leia’s eyes on her.

“I suppose it’s fitting, in a way. Ben grew up worshipping and worrying about his father. Now, he’s all grown up and with a woman who shares Han’s best and worst qualities, his bravery and his recklessness.”

Rey stiffened.

“ _Rey_ …” There was warning in Leia’s tone. “We’ve discussed this before, how you need to exercise more caution. Tell me something.”

Rey glanced up.

“Are Ben and I the only ones who’ve told you this?”

Her eyes flickered.

“That’s what I thought.” Leia sat back. “One person’s warning is nothing, two’s an indicator, but three? _That’s_ a pattern.”

Rey rolled her eyes.

“I’ve heard the stories, you know. Every time you get back from another rescue, everyone’s abuzz with the details, how you nearly got buried alive or sliced to bits but slipped away _just in time_. Each escape is more fantastic than the last, and every time you make it, you feel just a little more invincible, don’t you?”

She didn’t answer.

“Rey…” Leia said her name gently. “I’m not telling you this to reprimand you or try to control you but because I _love you_.”

Rey softened.

“I love you, and I’m _not_ the only one. You are _surrounded_ by people who care about you, who would _miss you_ if you were gone. And I know that’s new for you, maybe in ways you never anticipated. It must be hard to go from a life where you’re entirely on your own— no one to answer to, no one to worry over you— to being part of a community where you’re expected to act as part of a group.”

Rey looked down, memories of Jakku flashing.

“Do you ever miss it? Do you ever miss your old life, the independence of it?”

“If I said yes…” Rey hesitated. “Would that make me ungrateful?”

“ _No_.” Leia reached out, covering her hand. “It only makes you human.”

Rey swallowed.  “It’s just… hard. Harder than I thought it would be.”

“I know. Love is a gift, but it’s also a responsibility. It means you’re no longer beholden to just yourself but others too. You have to learn to be considerate, make decisions not in your own best interest but in your family’s.”

Rey sighed, nodding.

“And there’s another layer of responsibility for you, a more important one.”

Rey knitted her eyebrows.

“ _You_ have a galaxy to save, a destiny to fulfill, and you need to live long enough to do it, to become the leader _I know_ you’re meant to be.” 

“ _What!?_ ” Rey snapped up. “No. _No_. You said it yourself. I started _a war_. Thousands are dying because of me and _Ben?_ Who knows what Hux is doing to him? _It’s all my fault_. I _can’t_ be a leader. I’m not cut out for it. I’m a _complete_ —”

“ _Rey_.” Leia grabbed her hand. “I want you to do something for me. I want you to close your eyes.”

Rey huffed.

“ _Do it_.”

She squirmed but did as she was told.

“Now, I want you to think about your attack on that center, the consequences of it.”

Rey cringed.

“I want you to think about Hux, what he’s doing, all the people who are suffering right now. I want you to think about Ben, what he might be going through.”

Rey whimpered.

“Think about all of it, everything that’s happening because of your decision.”

Rey played through it in her mind, the galaxy in chaos, the lives lost, the destruction, where Ben could be. She saw him bloodied and broken from torture, a black mass on the floor. Tears started to stream as it weighed on her, heavier and heavier, everything she’s responsible for.

“Open your eyes.”

Rey forced them open.  

“Welcome to leadership,” Leia said wryly. “Welcome to making decisions that affect _billions_ , for better or worse. And if you think I’ve never made a decision that had this kind of fallout, _think again_. You know…” Leia sat back. “An old mentor of mine once said you’re not a true leader until you’ve made a mistake that cost a thousand lives. If that’s the case, then consider yourself initiated. _This_ is what leadership means, Rey. It means your successes are big and so are your failures, and trust me when I tell you, it _will not_ get easier.”

Rey gulped.

“But you _have_ to keep going. You have to learn from your mistakes and do better next time.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Leia lifted a hand. “Not for you because you were _meant for this_. I feel it in my heart, and I know you do too.”

“No…” Rey shook her head. “I was wrong. I _must_ have been wrong. I can’t—”

“You _can_ , and you _will_. Everything you’re feeling, all the regret and the shame and the heartache, all of it is _necessary_. It’s working in you _right now_ , helping you get _that much closer_ to who you need to become.”

Suddenly, the memory of Leia fades. Without realizing, Rey had reached for her crystal and is now holding it in an open palm. She looks down, surprised to see it there.

It’s calling to her. It’s always calling to her, but it’s more insistent now, demanding her focus. It whips through her ears, whistling like wind, reminding her of sandstorms on Jakku. She moves it into both palms, staring as it starts to glow.

_What do you want, little crystal?_

She feels the question, sending it through the Force like she does with the crystals in the kyber cave.

But this one isn’t like the others. It doesn’t communicate like they do, only sings its song. Yet, Rey senses its response, an understanding felt in the heart.

 _I want to be remade_.

Rey catches her breath. The crystal’s glowing brightly now, casting shadows on the walls. It’s warm in her hands, almost hot. She places it gently on the bed, then shoots up, scurrying to the closet. She fumbles around for a minute, throwing aside dirty clothes and spare parts until she finds what she’s looking for.

She hurries to the bed with the empty shell Ben gave her, a lightsaber hilt that’s only missing a single component. She settles on the mattress, grabbing the crystal, holding it in one hand and the hilt in the other. Her eyes flick between them.

This is unreal. She can’t finally be here, can she, mere _moments_ away from forging her own weapon?

The crystal’s song intensifies, a tempest swirling around her.

Rey stares, dumbstruck. She’s pictured this a thousand times, _ached_ for it, but now that the moment’s arrived, she can’t will herself to action. The significance is crushing, like if she does this, then she’ll have officially accepted her destiny, something so big and vague she can hardly conceive of it.

Her hands are trembling now. The crystal shines brightly, singing in her heart.

_Make me. Make me. Make me._

Rey gulps.

_We’re meant for this. We’re meant to remold the universe._

Suddenly, she snaps up.

Footsteps are coming up the ramp, distant but getting closer.

Rey scrambles, shoving the crystal and the hilt under a pillow, then turning to face the door.

The footsteps are in the ship now, heading down the corridor to the captain’s quarters. A second later, the door whirs open, and Ben steps into the room.

Rey straightens.

He’s not looking at her but straight ahead, shell-shocked. His eyes are red and puffy but otherwise he’s blank. He stands for a moment, staring.

Then, he moves to the bed, stiff and slow. He lowers absently like he doesn’t even see her there.

She glances at him, waiting for him to speak or acknowledge her.

But he does nothing.

Rey closes her eyes, surrendering to the bond. A second later, she whips a hand to her heart, pressing hard like staying blood from a wound. 

She wasn’t sure what Ben would feel after seeing his mother again. She knew that the experience would be intense, that there’d be many emotions at once. She thought it might be numbing or overwhelming.

But she never expected this. She never expected pain.

It’s excruciating, the worst thing she’s ever felt in him. She keeps clenching her heart, trying to contain or soothe it, but it’s _relentless_. She’s practically choking on it. All she wants to do is writhe and kick and gnash her teeth.

This isn’t right… This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He got everything he needed, his mother’s love and forgiveness. Shouldn’t it have released his pain or at least made it better? How is this possible? How is that he feels _worse?_

She trembles, struggling to sort through her thoughts as everything inside her screams.

 _No, no, no_. He should be _healing_ now.

Suddenly, a thought flashes, a sliver of a memory, something she translated from the Jedi texts. At the time, she dismissed it as just another stupid poem, but now there’s something poignant in it. How did it go again…?

_To heal is to understand pain_

_To become intimate with it_

_Healing reveals the depths of pain_

_Its endurance_

_Its toll_

_To heal is to hurt_

Rey slumps, the realization settling heavy.

Of course, he’s in pain. Healing is painful. Since her Force abilities started to develop, she’d forgotten what healing is for most people, but she’s remembering now. She recalls bad falls on scavenging trips, setting broken bones, forcing herself to exercise the limb, regain movement and muscle.

Healing is a process, a long one, and sometimes it feels like it will never end. Sometimes it doesn’t. Not all wounds heal completely. Many leave aches, limps, and deformities.

Rey hangs her head.

She wants _so badly_ for Ben to stop hurting. She wishes she could just heal him like she did his crystal, reach inside him and speed through his recovery to get to the very end.

But she can’t do that, not with this wound. The more she thinks, the more she understands. He’s buried his pain for _so long_ , but now it’s in the open, something he has to face. Maybe this was why he was so afraid to see his mother again.

He knew, or at least a part of him did. He knew it would release all the anguish and the heartache, that he wouldn’t be able to ignore it anymore. What she felt when he let her into his mind to show her about his father… that was just a shadow. _This_ is the full intensity, the true pain.

And she can’t make it go away. She can only help him through it, be with him as he starts the process of healing.

She presses her lips together. Very slowly, she slides a hand across the mattress. Her fingers find Ben’s, squeezing gently.

For a minute, they sit like this, side by side, her hand over his. Then, he turns his palm up, weaving his fingers between hers. He exhales, the pain in his heart joined by a subtle warmth.

Rey closes her eyes, focusing on it, on how much she loves him. She thinks about how much he’s grown, what he’s come to accept about his past. It was such a shock to hear him admit to his mistakes, everything he’s done to bring the First Order to power, but it was _exactly_ what she needed to rekindle hope— in him, in herself, in their destiny. She thinks about the work he has ahead of him, the work _they both_ have, to deal with their mistakes, to learn and grow.

 _I’ll be with you_ , she whispers in her mind. _I’ll be with you every step of the way_.

He seems to hear her because the moment she thinks the words, he slips his hand from hers, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. She snuggles up to him, placing a palm on his chest and pressing her cheek to his shoulder. He brushes her hair back, kissing her forehead and lingering there. They’re holding each other now, enveloped in one another’s warmth until that’s all they feel, just warmth and peace and love, the haven they create together.

Before long, his lips start to travel, from her forehead to her cheek. He tilts her chin up, claiming her lips with his, and the touch is _electric_ , coursing through their bodies as sweet, sweet release. She slips a hand behind his neck as they connect again, then again, slow, soft kisses meant to savor.

The kisses speak, each one communicating its own nuance— _I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you. I’m sorry. I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t ever want to leave._

Ben grips tightly as she pulls herself up, wrapping her arms around him, practically curling into his lap.

Suddenly, he breaks away, his breath at her ear. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

“W-what?”

“For the tracker.”

She stiffens. She slides her arms away, pulling back just enough to look at him. “I don’t know. Do you forgive me for your lightsaber?”

The corner of his eye twitches. For a second, she thinks he’s going to pull away, but instead he flips her on her back, pinning her arms to the mattress. “If it means we don’t have to fight anymore…” He crawls on top of her, kissing her neck. “Sure. For now.”

“Whoa…” She tries to free her arms, but he presses harder. “Ben, we need to talk.”

“We are talking.”

“ _No_ …” She squirms under him. “I mean _really_ talk.”

“Can’t we do that later?”

“No. I don’t want to put this off. It doesn’t feel right. Ben, _please_.”

He sighs, lifting up.

She wriggles an arm free, reaching for his face. “I love you…” She brushes his hair back. “But I need to know that I can trust you, that we can trust each other.”  

His eyes flicker. After a moment, he moves back, settling on the bed.

Rey sits up, crossing her legs. “I want to talk, but…” She sighs. “I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to yell or scream but actually _communicate_ with each other, _listen_. I’ve been talking with Finn, and he says we _really_ need to work on our communication skills.”

“The defected trooper?” Ben grunts. “Trust me when I tell you, there was nothing in his First Order training that makes him any sort of expert on communication.”

“Well then, he must be a natural because he and Rose have _excellent_ communication, and he’s been giving me some tips. For example, he said we need to try to put ourselves in each other’s place, understand the other person’s reasoning.”

He blinks, impassive.

She suppresses an eye roll. “Alright… I guess I’ll go first.” She wiggles straight. “I’ve had some time to think about the tracker, and though I still _very much_ disagree with it, the _lie_ and the _violation_ …”

His jaw tightens. 

“I do realize you were primarily motivated by concern for my safety, and from your perspective, what you did was something of an act of love, if a little twisted. And…” She hesitates. “It’s not like… I haven’t given you any reason to be concerned.”  

He doesn’t react, but she senses a twinge of validation.

“I’ve learned the hard way that I _can_ be reckless, and sometimes I don’t think things through like I should. I need to get better about that, and…” She shifts a little. “I need exercise more caution, realize I’m not invincible. I can die just as easily as any other person, and I should take care with my life, if not for my own sake then… for the people who love me.”

He softens.

“I know it might sound strange but…” She looks down. “I’m not used to thinking that way. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been on my own. I’d come home at the end of a day, and there was no one to ask me about scrapes and bruises, no one chiding me to take better care of myself. I’ve had so many falls and close calls, but I always made it through, and I was proud of that, proud of being a _survivor_ but…” She trails off. “My life isn’t just about survival anymore. It’s about the Resistance, my family here, all the slaves who are suffering and need help, my destiny, _our destiny_.” She looks up. “You.”

His lips turn slightly.

“I want to _live_ , long enough to make a _difference_ , see what we can do together. I want to _be with you_ , spend time with you, maybe even… grow old together?”

Something lights in his eyes. He starts to scoot closer.

“ _But_ …”

He stops.

“I need to know that I can trust you. Even if you had good reason to do what you did, it is _never_ ok to _violate me_ or _spy on me_. If you have a concern, you need to _talk to me_ , ask me—”

“Rey, if I’d asked you to consent to having that tracker inserted, what would you have said?”

She sighs.

“ _Exactly_. You _never_ would’ve consented, and you’d be _dead_ as a result.”

“Ben, that doesn’t excuse—”

“ _Yes_ , _it does_. If given the choice between respecting your privacy and keeping you alive, I will _always_ choose the latter, just like you did when you put _a tracker_ in my _lightsaber_.”

“That was different.”

“ _What!?_ ”

“Ben, I didn’t have _the opportunity_ to consult with you. Hux could’ve been torturing you for all I knew. I had to get you out of there.”

“So, you crossed a line to protect someone you care about, _exactly_ like I did.”

“ _No_. You had _plenty_ of opportunities to tell me about that tracker, _talk to me_ about why you did it.”

“Yes, and it’s a wonder I was so hesitant to tell you considering how well you took it.”

“ _Ben._ ” She grits her teeth. “I took it so badly because someone I trusted _deceived me_ and _violated me_. Can you not understand that? Can you not put yourself in my perspective for _one second_ , and imagine what it was like for me to give _my heart_ and _my trust_ to someone for the very first time, only for _both_ to be shattered?”

“I…” He looks down. “I don’t have to imagine. I know. I… I know what it’s like to be deceived by someone you trust.”  

“If you _knew_ , then why did you do it?”

“Because I _had to_ , Rey. You said it yourself. If I’d asked, you would’ve refused.”

“Why is deception your only option in this scenario? Why couldn’t you have just put in the time and effort to build trust between us, open me up to the idea?”

“Because you could’ve _died_ before that happened.”

She buries her face in a palm.

“Rey, I _told you_ , I’m sorry for hurting you, but I _can’t_ be sorry for the tracker, not when it’s the reason you’re still here.”

She sighs. “Fine.” She drops her hand. “Fine. But if we’re going to be together, I need you to understand that _trust is important to me_. No matter the reason, a _lie is a lie_ , and if you’re constantly rationalizing deceptions for the sake of my safety, then _what’s the point?_ Why keep me breathing at the expense of _ruining_ what we have? Why can’t we just learn to _talk_ to each other and make decisions _together?_ ”

“I…” He takes a breath. “I guess…”

She raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“I can do that…” He says carefully. “If _you_ can.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He pulls out his lightsaber. “ _You_.” He drops it in front of her.

She rolls her eyes.

“ _Rey_ …” He draws out her name. “ _This_ is _unacceptable_. You cannot _steal_ my property and do what you want with it, no matter what _good_ you think you’re doing. How would you react if I took your crystal, forged it and bled it, then claimed I was doing you a favor?”

She sucks in a breath.

“Not such a pretty thought, is it?”

She huffs, looking away.

“And it’s not like you were _forced_ to do it, that you couldn’t have _consulted_ _me_ before you tried your little experiment. You want me to be _honest?_ You want me to _talk to you?_ Try living up to your own standards.”

She bites her lip. “Alright.” She tilts her head. “That’s fair. In fact, why don’t we make a pact, right here, right now? Let’s agree that if one of us thinks the other is doing something harmful, to themselves or someone else, then we’ll try to talk it out first, _even_ if that’s hard and takes time. _No_ sneaking around, _no_ shortcuts.”

He narrows his eyes. “It’s easy to make a pact like that now, but real situations are complicated. We may not always have the time to come to a mutual decision.”

“That’s why I said _try_ , Ben. We’re not promising to always talk out every little thing. We’re promising to try to communicate, to learn to _work together_. Is that really so hard for you?”

“ _No_.”

“Let’s agree, then. Let’s agree not to lie or sneak around but _talk_ to each other, be partners, _true_ partners.”

He softens.

“Let’s agree to _trust_ each other.” She scoots forward. “To build something between us that _will last_.”

His face is gentle now, no trace of hardness.

“So… we’re agreed?”

For a moment, he just looks at her.

Then, he reaches out, brushing her cheek. He leans in, fingers drifting to her chin.

They connect softly.

“We’re agreed.” His lips graze hers.

“So, you forgive me?”

“Yes.” He kisses her. “And you forgive me?”

“Hm mm,” she murmurs, curling her fingers behind neck. “And I love you. Even when I’m _furious_ with you, I still love you.”

“That makes two of us.” He slips a hand behind her waist, drawing her closer.

Suddenly, he pulls back, something caught between them. He looks down to see his lightsaber nestled in the sheets.

He darkens.

They move away from each other, silence descending.

He fixes on the weapon, more confused than angry. It’s like he’s not sure what to do with it.

Rey moves her hands to her lap. “How did it feel?”

He glances up.

“When you used the saber. Was it…?” She trails off.

His eyes drift down. He reaches for the hilt, curling his fingers around it. “It’s… lighter than it used to be. It feels more controlled, yet… less controlled. I can’t make sense of it. It just… feels like someone else.”

She studies the saber. “I remember when you told me about this weapon, how you bled it to become Kylo Ren.” She grunts. “You called it your _first blood_.”

She can almost see him that hanger, whipping the fiery blade at his side. She remembers his pride when he told her how the crystal cracked, how that only made it stronger. She remembers asking if it hurt him, the way his answer grated against his heart.

She shakes her head. “That was Snoke’s weapon, for Snoke’s man.” She reaches out, grazing the burnt metal. “But this… This is _your_ weapon, for the man you’re becoming.”

His eyes catch hers. They have that strange quality, dark yet bright. There’s so much in them— doubt, insecurity, hope, yearning.

He looks to the saber, a distinct kind of heaviness descending like he just woke and realized how much there is to be done.

But instead of a day’s work ahead of him, he has a lifetime’s.  

He swallows, tightening his hold on the hilt. “What about you?”

Her eyes cloud.

“Your weapon? You haven’t forged it yet?”

 “No.” She looks down. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I…” She fiddles a moment, annoyed with the sudden rush of nervousness. She twists around, reaching under the pillow for her crystal and the empty hilt. She pulls them out, turning to Ben.

“You know what to do, don’t you?”

“ _Yes_.” She rolls her eyes. “I know how lightsabers work. I did take yours apart and put it back together you know.”

“Don’t remind me…” He turns, leaning to place his saber at the head of the bed. “If you know what to do, then why aren’t you doing it?”

“Because…” She stares at the components, crystal in one hand, hilt in the other.

She never finishes the sentence.

“Rey.”

She snaps up, startled by his hand on her knee.

“You’re ready for this.” His eyes are steady. “You were _meant_ for it.”

She swallows, managing a nod. It helps to look at him, to see the version of herself reflected in his eyes, strong and powerful.

She turns forward, scooting to the edge of the bed. Ben sidles up behind her, his warmth at her back. She holds out the components, one in each palm like she’s offering them.

For a moment, everything is still.

Then, both the crystal and the empty shell float up.

Rey drops her hands, reaching out through the Force to open the hilt. There’s a power cell at the bottom, field energizers at the top, and a space in the middle. She guides the crystal inside, slowly, deliberately. She nestles it between the cell and the energizers, crookedly at first, then straight.

“Does that look right?” She asks.

“Does it feel right?”

She closes her eyes, adjusting the crystal until its song quiets, the tempest dying to something gentler. “Yes.” She closes the hilt, hearing it snap into place. “That’s right.”

She opens her eyes.

The lightsaber hovers in front of her, sleek and silver.

“You need to attune the crystal to the power cell.”

“I know.” She’s too nervous to be irritated with him. She doesn’t need his direction, but she’s glad he’s here all the same. It feels right doing this with him.

Maybe this was what she was waiting for all along.

She reaches out, taking the saber in her hand. The crystal hums inside it, singing in her heart.

_Make me. Make me. Make me._

She closes her eyes, focusing on its energy, gently guiding it through the power cell. It’s a strange feeling but one she’s grown accustomed to, exerting her will through the Force yet letting it work through her, following its intuition. She’s begun to master the art of gaining control by losing it.

She senses Ben behind her, his intensity and anticipation. She also senses pride, like a teacher watching his student.

Soon, the saber grows warm in her hand. It’s a soft warmth, not too hot, suffusing with her blood and skin. Finally, she feels it, the room thrumming with the energy of the alignment.

“It’s done.” His breath tickles her ear.

She opens her eyes, gazing at the saber in her palm.

“That’s _your_ weapon.” His hands slide over her hips. “ _Yours_.”

Her chest swells.

 _Her weapon_. 

“Come on. Let’s see what it looks like.”

She turns the saber in her hand, her thumb sliding to the top.

She pauses. “Wait.” She hops up, running to the end of the room to dim the lights. When she comes back, she settles between Ben’s legs, wiggling against him as he wraps his arms around her.

“ _Now_ , I’m ready.” She lifts the weapon. She can hardly breathe as she holds it in front of her, thumb hovering over the ignition. She closes her eyes.

Then, she turns it on.

An electric hum fills the room, sharp at first, then gentle. She feels Ben start behind her, and when she opens her eyes, she knows why.

The light is _blinding_ , so bright, it illuminates the entire room. She moves the blade away, squinting. It takes a few seconds before her eyes adjust to really see it.

She gapes, mesmerized.

At first glance, the blade appears white. It’s a vibrant whiteness, like a star in its prime. But the more she studies it, the more she sees flecks of blue and red, green and yellow, purple and orange.

The blade’s not white. It’s the combination of many colors, all merging to create a single brightness.

The realization hits them both at once.

They’ve seen this before, in the vision the crystals showed them— two celestial bodies, one like water, one like fire, colliding to create an array of colors blending into a dynamic brightness, stretching to cover the entire universe. 

They gaze at the saber, transfixed by the contradiction, a blade that’s no color yet many.

“This weapon is one of a kind,” Ben whispers in her ear. “I’ve never heard of anything like it, not for a Jedi or a Sith.” His arms tighten around her. “It suits you.”

She tucks her chin, smiling. She wiggles forward, Ben’s arms falling away as she rises. She steps to the center of the room, lifting the saber straight in front of her.

Then, she lunges, thrusting.

The blade is lightning, fast and powerful. She thrusts again, once, twice, then spins around, whipping it through the air. She turns to Ben, flushed. 

“How does it feel?” There’s a twinkle in his eye.

“It feels like…” She looks to the blade. “Destiny.”

The saber hums its approval. She gazes softly, focused on its energy. As the power surges through her, a memory flashes, the first time she entered the Jedi temple on Ahch-To.

“Something inside me has always been there…” She’d whispered to Skywalker. “But now it’s awake, and I’m afraid.”

She stares at the blade, colors flickering in her eyes.

She’s not that girl anymore. She’s not afraid of this power inside her. She’s _ready_ , ready to rise, ready fulfill her purpose.

She slides a thumb to the ignition, and in an instant, the blade disappears into the hilt.

She stares as it cools in her hand. Then, she steps to the end of the bed, placing it next to Ben’s, the sleek, silver hilt contrasting with the scarred and burnt one. They look so different, yet so obviously a pair.

She studies them, complementary opposites. “We’re going to stop this.” She traces a finger along his saber. “All the fighting and destruction. We’re going to stop it _for good_.” She snaps to Ben.

His face is solemn.

She moves to the bed, never taking her eyes of his. “We’re going to _fix_ our mistakes.” She settles next to him. “We’re going to _stop_ Hux and set this galaxy on a _new_ path, heal the damage that’s been done and build a peace that _will last_.”

He stares for a long moment.

Then, he gives a single nod.

There’s conviction in the gesture, but she senses what’s underneath— wariness, doubt, but insecurity most of all.

He’s not sure he’s up for this. The part of him that yearns to right his wrongs grates against the part that fears this isn’t possible.

She lifts a hand to his face, brushing aside a dark lock of hair. Her gaze is steady, full of the certainty he lacks.

It’s such a strange thing, the way he makes her feel. She’d been so defeated since her attack on the data center, despairing of her grand ambitions to make peace between the Resistance and the First Order, to show the galaxy what love can achieve.

But then the bond brought her to Ben, flooding her with despair ten times worse than hers. He’d finally opened his eyes, saw his past for what it was, and the truth of it was crushing.

That was it. That was the moment she found the strength she needed to pick herself up and face destiny head on. It didn’t make things clearer or less daunting, but it rekindled the part of her that _never_ gives up, that’s determined to find a way. Somehow, it’s easier to be strong when she can feel how much he needs her to be.

She cups his cheek, filling with love and confidence, everything she knows he is and can be.

He looks into her eyes, searching.

She stares right back, letting him feel what’s in her heart. She leans in, tilting her head as her lips press softly to his. She lingers there, one kiss blending seamlessly with the next.

He slips a hand behind her waist, drawing her close. Their kisses are full of gratitude, relishing in what seemed impossible the day before, being together, being like this.

She pulls back, but stays close. “I’m glad you’re here.” She strokes his cheek. “I’m glad we’re here together, _actually together_ , even under the circumstances. And…” She hesitates. “I’m glad for the opportunity.”

He knits his brow.

“For the Resistance to see you, _really_ see you. See the man that I see.”

He stiffens.

There it is again, that insecurity.

She just smiles, leaning in for another kiss. He relaxes at the touch, stiffness melting away. She wraps her arms around him, pouring her love into every movement, her fingers in his hair, her lips pressed to his. It’s all an expression of what she feels, who she _knows_ he is.

A strong leader, tactical but compassionate. A man who’s grown wise beyond his years, who knows what it means to carry pain as well as inflict it. A man who feels the weight of his mistakes, who _aches_ to atone for them, who has the strength and will to do it.

The truth of it surges through her, flowing through the bond straight into his heart.

Suddenly, he grabs her, pulling her on top him. His lips are on fire, hands raking over her body. She meets him flame for flame, opening her mouth into his.

The passion is dynamic, bodily expression a reflection of something deeper, the way they make each other feel— stronger, better, ready to fulfill their destiny. This is what the bond is for as much as anything, to let them _feel_ what they see in each other. It’s what Rey’s come to appreciate most about it, how she can be in Ben’s presence and experience everything she is to him, revealing parts of herself she never knew were there.

This is how they make each other whole. They unlock everything inside the other, things buried by insecurity and past hurts. They nurture them, encourage them to grow, and as a result, they become a better version of themselves. Rey knows she wouldn’t be the woman she is right now without Ben, without the bond. It’s because of him that she’s embraced her power, that she’s ready to shed the vestiges the sad, lonely girl from nowhere and become the leader the galaxy needs her to be.

She knows he feels it too. His insecurity is gone now, replaced by purpose and determination, her confidence becoming his own. He drinks it in with his body and his lips, muscles trembling as he grips her close.  

Suddenly, she’s on her back, and he’s on top of her. They don’t skip a beat, lips locked in passion, a tangle of limbs and searching hands. They lose themselves in sensation, physical and spiritual, all of it blending into one experience.

The fire between them calms gradually, roaring flames becoming a steady burn. Their kisses grow softer, their hands gentler. They want to savor this, appreciate it for what it is, a celebration of who they are together.

Ben pulls up, eyes searching. “I…” He hesitates. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Rey melts. She lifts her hands to frame his face, a thumb at each cheek. “You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

“You…” He swallows. “You promise?” His expression is heartbreaking.

“ _Yes_.” She caresses his cheek. “I promise.”

He lets out a breath, forehead falling to hers. They close their eyes, lingering in silent prayer, a vigil to their reunion, their commitment to each other.

When he lifts his head, his eyes are soft. He descends, lips pressing tenderly to hers. She slips her fingers in his hair, one kiss becoming another, then another, a quiet conversation, intimate and unspoken.

Soon, their hands travel, hers sliding to his shoulders, his slipping under her shirt, seeking warm flesh. He moves slowly up her body, taking the fabric with him. She angles up, moving her arms to let him pull of her top and cast it to the floor. He frames her hips, eyes raking over bare skin glowing in dim light. She reaches to undo his belt.

One by one, they shed their clothing, but they take their time, often doing it for each other. There’s patience to the process, nothing like the first time they came together, desperate and clawing.  

No, this is more intentional. It’s like they don’t want to miss a thing, unwrapping each other slowly to reveal their vulnerabilities, scarred flesh, moles and freckles peppered across bare skin. They stop every now and then just to look at each other or press their lips to favorite parts, his that curve just above her hip, hers the scar she gave him in his shoulder. Each time she kisses it, she feels like she’s transforming it so that when he looks there, he’ll think of the softness of her lips, not the heat of her blade.

Piece by piece, they shed themselves until they’re completely exposed. She falls back on the bed as he moves over her, eyes travelling over soft curves. He’s the only person who’s seen her naked, and she’s always surprised by how comfortable she is, not a trace of shyness or insecurity. The way he looks at her makes her feel cherished, like she’s the most precious thing.

He lifts a hand to her cheek, caressing with the backs of his fingers. They gaze at one another, relishing in what they see and feel. She reaches up, slipping her fingers in his hair, gripping gently to guide his lips to hers.

He moves over her, his hardness pressing against wet, sensitive skin. He’s still kissing her when he slides inside, full and throbbing. She catches her breath, lips grazing his. At first, he doesn’t move, just enjoying the sensation of being inside. She wraps her arms and legs around him, opening her mouth into his as his hands slide over her body.

He rises, starting to push, bare chest and arms gleaming in the light. She reaches for him, pressing a palm to hard muscles. She travels up his chest and over his shoulders, down his arms, then back again. His thrusts are long and slow, each one setting her aflame. She closes her eyes, tilting her hips up, the hardness inside her thick and full, yet she _aches_ for more.

He picks up his pace, hands sliding to her hips to grip tightly. She moans as he buries himself with harder, faster thrusts, the pressure growing to something wild and unfocused. She feels all of it, his pleasure and hers blending into one.

She gasps when he jerks her up, pinning her back to the wall, hands gripping her flesh as he drives into her. She squeezes with her thighs, and he responds by pushing deeper, a moan escaping as she tightens around him.

Suddenly, she grips a chunk of his hair, yanking back.

He searches her, startled, but softens when he realizes what she wants.

They’re still now, bodies entangled, eyes locked in a tender gaze. They don’t have to say the words to hear them.

 _I love you_.

Their lips turn in tacit understanding. He leans in, brushing his nose against hers. For a moment, they stay here, lingering in silent acknowledgement.  

A second later, she’s on her back, catching her breath as he thrusts inside her. She whines, arching her back.

“ _Please_.”

The word escapes breathlessly, and she’s not even sure what she’s asking for, but he seems to know. He grips her hips, taking her with fast, pounding thrusts, skin slapping against skin. He’s lost all control now, and this is _exactly_ what she wanted.

She’s panting and moaning, thighs trembling as her pleasure teases at the edge. All she wants is this, _right here_ , to be lost in him and him in her, forever. She cries out, an explosion ripping through her as she flutters around him, her body wracked with shivers. He groans, his thrusts slow and deep as he comes with her.

Their bodies are hot and slick with sweat, tremors of pleasure pulsing through them. He collapses on top of her, and she wraps her arms around him, drinking in the closeness— the weight of him, the smell of him, the feeling of him inside.

Time ceases to exist as they lie like this, so lost in each other that all semblance of individuality fades like an old memory. He lifts up, still buried in her, and their eyes lock. They’re a perfect mirror, speaking the language of body and heart.

He doesn’t pull out of her, and she doesn’t want him to. They just gaze at each other, content to be whole.

The Force hums around them, expanding and contracting, the bond at the center like the eye of a storm.

This is balance. This is evolution.

This is destiny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support, and as always, thank you for reading! The next update will be September 28th.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I really appreciate your patience and understanding with the slowdown in updates. I’ve got a few rough weeks ahead, so I’ll be giving myself until April 12th to upload the next chapter. Then, I should get back to updating every two weeks!


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